


Pollen

by TheSmutFaries



Series: Smut Anthology [1]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Sex Pollen, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smut Anthology, So much smut, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmutFaries/pseuds/TheSmutFaries
Summary: While hunting for an ancient artifact, Abbie and Ichabod get doused with a pollen with, erm, interesting qualities.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time there were two fandom smut fairies that met and decided to join forces. You're welcome.

“It’s empty.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s empty’?”

Ichabod purses his lips and turns the box around so Abbie can peer inside. 

“Empty,” he repeats.

“Oh, hell no,” Abbie retorts, sticking her hand inside and dragging her fingers along the seams of the wooden box. “I did not come out to the middle of nowhere in Massachusetts to hunt down an empty box.”

“Unless you’ve been harboring a skill that enables you to retrieve objects from the ether, it appears our trip was in vain,” he says heavily, feeling the sting of disappointment as well.

“I should’ve let Jenny and Joe come get this,” Abbie grouses, forcing herself to put the box back on the stone table instead of throwing it against the wall. She huffs in annoyance then knocks it off the table anyway. The act _does_ make her feel moderately better.

Ichabod notices Abbie’s clenched jaw and fiery eyes but wisely keeps his mouth shut. This was the fourth in a series of possible acquisitions that failed to yield a positive result--two were lost in black market auctions, one had been found destroyed with no living mortal knowledgeable to repair it, and now the _Sharbiyt Chayiym_ \- or as it’s been roughly translated, ‘Scepter of Life’ – has slipped through their fingers.

“Let’s go,” Abbie says dully. “We’re probably inhaling centuries old mold and it’s growing in our lungs.”

“Your recent trip to the apothecary has not yield the desired result?” he asks, still looking about the room. There was something slightly off, something he could _just_ discern but would be unable to articulate if pressed.

“If you mean did the allergy pills I picked up at the drugstore kick in yet, no,” she says, rubbing the skin beneath her eyes gingerly. “Even more reason I want to get out of here and back into the climate controlled environment of home until I’m forced to leave again.”

Abbie watches as Ichabod tilts his head, as though noticing something they had overlooked. It isn’t until the beam of his flashlight reflects off something metal that she notices it. There, buried under ages of grime and muck, is some kind of metal placard. 

Leave it to Ichabod to notice a tiny bit of shiny below filth, she thinks with a slight smile.

She moves over to join him. 

“What is it?” 

Using the sleeve of his coat, Ichabod wipes hard at the grime. After a moment, an inscription can be made out. And of course it’s in a foreign language. 

“Please tell me you can read it.”

Ichabod has just opened his mouth to speak when he runs his hand over a button that causes the cavern to tremble gently. They both look up as a shimmering yellow substance cascades from a newly-opened hole directly above them. Within seconds, they are both coughing, wheezing, and sneezing.

“Great,” Abbie grumbles. “Just… great.” 

She shakes her head and swats at herself to try and get the dust off of her. She rubs the substance between her fingers and groans. 

“What the hell… Pollen? Really?” She looks up at the ceiling, as if God himself has offended her, and waves her arms. “ _Really_?”

That, evidently, is the wrong reaction as Abbie then begins coughing and gagging as one last puff of the shimmering pollen falls right onto her face. The phrase ‘and fuck you in particular’ pops into her mind and she can’t help but start laughing in between coughs. When she finally manages to stop coughing, she notices Ichabod is making use of the canteen water to rinse his face. 

Once he’s done, he passes it to her and Abbie cleans her face off then takes a long drink from it to get the sweet taste out of her mouth. Her hand brushes Ichabod’s as she passes the canteen back to him.

It makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she shivers involuntarily. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, shaking off whatever that was to again try removing what she can from her clothing. It doesn’t so much come off as sort of fade, and on her hands, neck, and even where she washed it off her face, Abbie skin begins to sort of tingle. She glares at Ichabod as he shakes the pollen off of his coat. 

“I hate you.”

Ichabod looks at her strangely for a moment. He fidgets uncomfortably then looks startled as some of the substance seems to have made it down the back of his shirt and skitters down his back into his trousers. In a flash-and with a small amount of swearing on his part-Ichabod removes his coat and yanks his shirt from the waistline of his breeches. Abbie points and laughs as the shimmering pollen floats to the ground.

“Perhaps showering would be in order once we return home,” he suggests, trying to ignore the fact it still feels like the pollen is trickling over his skin. He folds his coat over one arm and offers the other to the Lieutenant.

She shakes her head and smiles but still slips her hand into the crook of his elbow to permit him to escort her from the cave. 

“It was nearly two hours to get down here,” she groans. “And then there’s the actual ride home…. That was almost three hours. So a total of five hours of keeping this crap on us.”

Abbie tilts her head to look at Ichabod as they draw to a halt. He’s staring at her strangely. Stranger than he normally does. He shakes his head to clear it. “Perhaps we can stop at the same gas station on our return? I distinctly recall their touting having their newly renovated showering facilities available,” he suggests.

The gas station in question was maybe twenty minutes from the cave they were currently in. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Abbie hums. For a moment something tickles her lips and she lightly moistens them with her tongue to stop the sensation. 

“Let’s go.” Ichabod jumps slightly when Abbie slaps his rear before heading onward in the direction they had come from. 

“Lieutenant!” he admonishes. Abbie stops and looks at him curiously.

She blinks slowly. “I meant to slap your back,” she says tonelessly. “And I thought you had your coat back on.”

Ichabod straightens to full height. 

“I thought it prudent to remove the garment due to the saturation of the pollen,” he says, not quite looking at her. “Putting it back on would have negated the purpose of removing it. Besides, you found my fighting to get it off quite amusing.”

Abbie wants to apologize but the words die before they pass her lips and they march upward through the passages in a tense, strange silence. About half an hour into their journey out, Abbie rubs the back of her neck to ease some of the tension building just beneath the surface. The tension migrates down her spine and settles into the pit of her belly.

Ichabod’s fingers fidget restlessly at his side, his back straight as a metal rod as he keeps his gaze fixed on what’s ahead. He isn’t entirely sure where the feelings are coming from, but he is hyper aware of the brush of the fabric of his breeches against his thighs… of the way Abbie’s breaths have become somewhat more shallow-he tells himself it’s because of her _allergies_ and that she’ll be right as rain once they return home and she can take her medications.

“When did it get so hot?” Abbie mutters, pulling her hand from the crook of Ichabod’s arm and yanking her jacket off, revealing the tank top beneath. She glances down at her arms and her skin seems to shimmer briefly. She blinks and everything is normal once more.

Ichabod swallows hard. 

“I am not certain,” he gasps, tugging at the strings of his shirt to untie them so he can breathe better. Surely it hadn’t been this warm during their descent...

He offers her the canteen. Abbie grins slightly and takes it and drinks eagerly to sate her thirst. 

_Ladies first as always_. It seems to do the trick, and she suddenly feels a little more energetic as she passes it back to Ichabod. He turns the canteen up, draining the rest of the contents-which is fine because Abbie suggested they pack two more just in case.

Abbie feels the tension at the pit of her belly twist and venture lower when Ichabod lowers the canteen, a small smirk on his lips as he wipes renegade droplets from his beard and his eyes glimmer at her. 

They draw to a stop when they reach an incline they had been able to slide down earlier. 

“Looks like I’ll need you to boost me up and then I’ll pull you up.”

Ichabod nods in agreement and, because he’s taller and can do that kind of thing, he tosses their supplies into the narrow gap they’ll have to wriggle through. Hopefully there will be some kind of respite from the heat that seems to have started building in the lower caverns. He kneels down and makes a cradle with his hands for Abbie to slip her foot into.

Abbie reaches for the lip of the gap as Crane lifts her off of the ground. Her fingers barely graze the edge on the first try. On the second she manages to grasp hold tightly. That’s when she becomes acutely aware of Ichabod’s face buried firmly against her ass. She shudders as she feels his hot breath through her jeans. 

“Crane…” she says, although it comes out as more of a whimper than she would like.

HIs hands start at her ankles and glide up her legs and the backs of her thighs. She hears him moan softly as his hands reach her ass and he nuzzles his face into the apex of her thighs. He murmurs something that sounds remotely like her name.

Heat flushes Abbie’s face and she moans, “Crane…”

He snaps out of whatever had just overcome him and pulls his face back. 

“Apologies, Lieutenant,” he mutters, his voice dark and heavy. He then boosts her up enough that she can make her way through the gap.

Abbie feels completely winded as she rolls away from the edge to give Ichabod room to jump up. In hindsight she should’ve waited for him to come and let him go first, it would’ve probably kept what happened from happening.

Probably.


	2. Chapter Two

Abbie grabs their stuff and begins scooting forward on her hands and knees through the narrow tunnel, desperate to avoid looking at Ichabod’s face or having to talk about how good it felt to have his face exactly where it should’ve bee-

Abbie can hear herself breathing and it’s getting difficult to ignore the dampness in her panties as she becomes hyper aware of the soaked material against her skin. If she were alone and at home she’d have shoved her hand down her pants ages ago. Instead she’s in a musty ass tunnel covered in dust and-

“Crane,” she calls out over her shoulder, shivering when all she can see is a hulking shape behind her. It moves forward and large hands grasp her thigh and yank her back. She feels his face press to her ass, the hot dampness of his breath soaking through the denim.

“Lieutenant, what is that intoxicating aroma?” he rumbles, and the notes of his voice reach down and seem to caress her clit. Or maybe it was his fingers. “It’s _you_.”

Abbie tries to think, tries to let the voice at the back of her mind speak up, but Ichabod’s moving behind her and suddenly she can feel his breath on the skin of her back above her waistband just before she feels the scrape of teeth. 

“What… what are you doing?” she asks, breathing deep to avoid groaning. 

She wants his mouth on her body again.

“I want…” Ichabod’s voice sounds strained. “I want to peel these ridiculously fitted trousers from your glorious legs so I may spread them and feast on your cunt until I can drink your essence like the finest of wines.” He makes a noise than sounds like a growl and she feels teeth on her skin again, followed by his tongue stroking her skin.

Abbie shudders, the warning growing louder. “What?” she asks weakly. 

“How I have longed to have you on my cock, how I have dreamt of what you must feel like sheathed around me. Hot. Wet. I would devote my life to ensure every inch of you is kissed - just glorious,” Ichabod groans and bites the apple of her ass through her jeans.

“This isn’t normal,” she groans, wondering if he’s going to do it again and feeling disappointed when he doesn’t. Instead he scoots back away from her.

“I…” Crane clears his throat. “I don’t know why I said those things. I feel as if my brain is addled by spirits too potent to handle and my skin feels as if even the slightest touch could… prove embarrassing for us both,” he says. “Are you similarly affected?”

It takes two tries for Abbie to swallow and speak again. 

“Yes,” she croaked. “We gotta keep moving and get somewhere we can wash this off. The gas station is looking less like a choice and more like a necessity.”

Ichabod clears his throat and Abbie wants to roll her eyes - she knows what’s coming next. 

“Lieutenant, if I have made you uncomfortable-”

“Crane, I think we can both agree this falls under _circumstances beyond our control_ ,” she says. “But could you let go of my thigh?” 

As soon as his touch is gone, Abbie wishes it were back, but she shoves the feeling down and concentrates on putting one knee in front of the other. 

Eventually their surroundings widen enough so they can crawl side by side and they emerge into the room-like cavern where they had found a Mason symbol etched on the side of a large boulder that required both of them to roll it out of the way in order to discover the tunnel. 

Abbie scrambles away from Ichabod, trying to get his scent out of her nostrils as she walks to the other side of the cavern next to the conveniently placed wall-mounted torch and crouches to go through the pack to find the other canteen. Her brain is buzzing and the buzz seems to extend through her skin and she’s mortified to realize she can feel that she’s soaked through her panties, that the material feels that if she squeezed her thighs together, her pants would get wet. And not because of sweat.

She pulls out the other canteen and is dismayed to find her hands shaking as she tries to twist off the cap. Abbie tries twice before Ichabod looms before her, reaching out with his long, dexterous fingers for the bottle.

Abbie watches those fingers longer than she should; watches Crane’s hands as they envelop the bottle and apply strength to twisting the cap. 

_Why aren’t his hands shaking? That’s not fair_! 

“Thanks,” she says, closing her eyes when their fingers brush and the sensation goes straight to her groin.

Ichabod can say nothing because his vision is filled with Abbie and it has robbed him of most of his reason and all of his voice. Greedily he watches as she tilts her head back and drinks, coveting the delicate work of her throat as he continues down to the tempting feast that is her divine collarbone. 

His eyes continue south and linger gratefully on her full breasts and the peek of lace from the edge of her bra cup. It’s white, but the strap beside her tank strap is black - immediately Ichabod knows which bra she’s wearing; shiny satin black topped with white lace on both cups and a white pearl front clasp in between.

Ichabod wonders if he is cursed or blessed because Abbie’s hand shifts before righting the water bottle and every fiber of his being is focused on the shocked little gasp that falls from her mouth as the water slides down her neck, darkening the neckline of her tank as it travels down into her bra.

“Cold, cold,” Abbie groans, tossing him the bottle and reaching down into her shirt. Ichabod’s eyes widen when he realizes what she means to do, and before he can say anything to save himself she’s turning - not even a second later she’s pulled off her bra without having to remove her tank. 

“God, that felt strange,” she says, still not turned around. “It felt cold and hot at the same time.”

Ichabod’s holding onto the bottle in his hand as if it's his only lifeline. He feels feverish, lightheaded and like a cad because he wants - no, _needs_ Abbie to turn around. 

“Lieutenant, are you hurt?”

He watches the back of Abbie’s head move back and forth. 

“No,” she says, squaring her shoulders. “My shirt will dry.” She turns as if nothing’s amiss, and it’s Ichabod’s turn to gulp greedily at the bottle, his eyes focusing on the curves of her breasts, the stains of the water putting everything on display.

He suddenly finds himself unable to restrain himself.

Abbie’s eyes widen and darken as Ichabod advances toward her, dropping the canteen on the floor of the cave as he comes closer. She staggers backward. Her heel catches a rock and she yelps helplessly as she starts to tumble back. Before she can completely topple over, Ichabod yanks her against him and hoists her up against the nearest wall of rock so he can bury his face in her cleavage.

Her body betrays her almost instantly and she arches against his mouth as he nips and sucks at her breasts through the material. Abbie swears loudly, her hand going to the back of his head to hold him in place while she wraps her legs around his back. 

“Crane…” she gasps. “Fuck me… I mean… _focus_.” 

“Oh I shall, Lieutenant… I shall focus intently upon making you scream my name,” he growls.

“Promises, promises,” Abbie sighs. She grunts softly when he presses his body firmly between her legs.

He eagerly yanks down the neckline of her top. Abbie can feel the the very center of her clench as his mouth closes around one hardened nipple, the gentle scrape of his teeth sending an electric sensation straight to the apex of her thighs. He moans softly and releases her nipple with a wet sound.

Ichabod licks his lips frantically then grins darkly. 

“I have wanted to do that for… ages. You traipse around the house in the thinnest of shirts,” he rumbles as he begins to swirl his hips against her. “They serve no purpose save to drive me to distraction! They do not impede the bounce and sway of your glorious breasts, and cause my mouth to ache with the desire to taste your nipples until you cry out my name.”

That’s Abbie’s only warning before he lowers his head again to place a quick lick against her nipple before taking it inside his mouth and sucking hard. She can only hold on, marveling how dry humping in a cave could have her on the edge so quickly. Abbie adjusts her hips and cries out raggedly. She’s now rubbing against something long and hard, and her body aches as it attempts to clench around nothingness.

“It feels like you have a flashlight in your pocket,” she babbles, and Ichabod lifts his head from her chest to smile darkly.

“My dearest Abigail. That is no flashlight, but flesh; the same flesh I wish were buried fully inside of you right now,” he moans.

Whether good sense has returned or a sense of self-preservation, Abbie shakes her head and yanks her top back into place before taking Ichabod’s face in her hands. 

“Crane…” she says, her voice low and almost husky with desire. “We have to get out of this cave. That pollen or… whatever it was… it’s not making us think straight.”

Ichabod strokes Abbie’s hair away from her face and places feathery kisses on her lips. 

“My dearest Lieutenant…” he whispers, “never have my thoughts been so perfectly aligned with my desires as they are in this very moment.”

Abbie’s fingers find their way into his hair. She kisses along his jaw then nuzzles his ear. 

“It’s not _your_ desires, Crane. It’s… whatever that was that dusted us.” She lets her head fall back and her hands rest on his shoulders as he kisses her neck - well, she says ‘kisses’ but it’s more like licking and biting it. The ache between her legs grows.

When Ichabod blinks at her, he looks drunk but nods as he lets her feet return to the ground. 

“I make apologies for being so forward, Lieutenant… But at the same time, I assure you, I know better than anyone where my desires lie.”

Abbie moves away and retrieves the canteen Ichabod discarded earlier and takes a long draught from it. Her face contorts and she puts her hand at the base of her belly as she feels an intense pain that rivals her monthly cramps. 

“Let’s get out of here. Let’s get… this stuff washed off of us. Let’s… get our minds back.”

She eyes the knapsack she had been carrying and shakes her head. There is nothing important in it that can’t be replaced. Abbie stalks down the narrow corridor. She’s intently aware that Ichabod is following behind her. She doesn’t dare look back for fear she’ll give in to what the pollen wants.

Everything inside her is telling her to be honest with Ichabod. Tell him how she feels about him. Tell him how he _makes_ her feel. And then sit on his face.

_Wait. What_? 

One of those things was not like the others. Although she is pretty sure he’s the type that would wrap his arms around her thighs and grind her down on his lips and tongue. She squeezes her thighs together as she walks, thinking of his beard between her legs.

_Stop it_ , she orders herself. But it’s too late; she’s practically panting, and the ache between her legs is just getting worse by the minute. Maybe she just has to pee. There’s no way she’s so horny she’s in physical pain.

Ichabod sighs raggedly behind her. 

“Lieutenant…” he whimpers. “Forgive me, but… my cock is entirely too hard because all I have been able to think of is bending you over the granite countertops at home and having my way with you until your sweetness is pouring down my thighs.”

“Shit,” Abbie swears, a spasm making her core clench painfully. She stumbles and falls to her hands and knees. 

_Fuck it_. 

If he can go on about his dick being hard and fucking her on the counter, then she can try to give herself a little respite from the ache. She fumbles with the button of her jeans, then the zip, and shoves her hand into her panties. Her head drops forward as her fingers stroke her clit. 

“Oh, god, yes,” she sighed.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?” Ichabod asks, kneeling next to her and offering his hand. “Do you require assistance?”

Abbie bites her bottom lip and stares at his outstretched hand. Those long, thick fingers… She licks her lips and removes her hand from her panties, grabs his hand, then shoves it in her pants.

Ichabod makes a small, surprised sound but his fingers instantly go to work. At that moment Abbie can’t think of anything better than being on all fours, Ichabod hovering over her, his fingers alternating between sliding inside of her and massaging her clit.

“Oh, my darling Abigail,” he groans. “You are positively sodden.” She feels his lips at her ear where he’s lightly nibbling her lobe. “I imagine my cock would slide into you without an ounce of resistance… and that you would feel absolutely divine…”

Abbie cries out as she clenches around his fingers. She pushes back against his groin with her ass and can feel the prominent bulge in the front of his breeches as she rides out her orgasm. The feeling leaves her heady and dizzy, but the ache subsides just a little. If he can do that with just his fingers, she can only imagine what his cock would be capable of.

She grapples with the waist of her jeans, trying to push them down. 

“Why imagine it, Crane? Why not find out?”


	3. Chapter Three

Within seconds, she finds herself staring up at the ceiling of the cave, Crane trying to yank her jeans down her legs. They’re barely to her knees when she feels him sliding inside of her. Her eyes widen and her lips part in a silent whimper. 

_Shit. He had been hiding a damn python in his pants._

Ichabod hooks her knees over his arm and slowly eases himself inside of her as deeply as he can. His heart beats faster as he watches her whimper and writhe. Just as he had suspected, she feels like Heaven mixed with exquisite Bliss.

“Crane,” she croaks, her eyes squeezed shut. She pants heavily for a moment. Just when she’s about to speak, he withdraws then plunges back inside her in one swift stroke. Her back arches and she cries out. 

“Oh god… I think it’s too big.”

“Shh, Treasure,” Ichabod whispers softly. “I assure you, all is well. However… once we return home, I fully intend to make certain to give you...every… last… inch… of my… _cock_.” Each word is punctuated by deep thrusts that make Abbie cry out, scream, and keen. “I will make you writhe in ecstasy. I want you to cry out to the Heavens for mercy.”

A sob escapes Abbie’s lips because she wants that, too. She wants every last bit of him. She wants him to make her crave nothing but him for all eternity, and he’s well on his way to doing just that. Abbie can feel everything--every vein, every inch, as he slides out and pushes back in with deep and even strokes. The sensation of him is indescribable as she scrambles to hold on to something, _anything_ that can distract her from the unbearable, mounting pleasure.

Ichabod pushes in and his eyes almost roll up in the back of his head at the almost frictionless glide inside his Lieutenant. She is almost scalding in temperature and the way her walls cling to his manhood has him desperately moaning and shoving forward again, searching for their mutual relief. 

The only sounds in the cavern are their cries of pleasure and the loud, wet sound of his cock pistoning in and out of Abbie. 

“I wish I could disrobe you completely,” Ichabod says, slowing his thrust so he can try and articulate what he is feeling. “I want to see your entire body as I make you contort in pleasure.”

“Yes!” Abbie screams, deliriously agreeing as she lets Crane fuck her. It takes two more strokes to push her over the edge again, shuddering and coming hard on his dick.

“Oh, god in heaven,” he says reverently as he feels her walls ripple around his cock as even more moisture hits his thighs and he begins thrusting even harder. 

“Come for me again, Abbie. Tell me how good my cock feels.” He doesn’t stop his stroke until he bottoms out, flexing his hips before coming back to do it again and again.

“Fuck! It feels… Oh god… please…” She flails out, her legs falling out of his grasp in her efforts to sidle away from the pleasure wracking her body. Ichabod falls out of her and for a second Abbie thinks she can breathe as she rolls to her hands and knees but Ichabod is behind her in a second. Her body throbs as he grasps her ass in both hands and squeezes before he parts her and presses his face between her thighs and sticks his tongue inside of her, flicking against the underside of her clit on every pass. 

Abbie reaches out to the cavern wall for support, using the leverage to shove her ass back on Ichabod’s face as she sobs at how deep his tongue feels. 

_Why hadn’t they done this before? Why isn’t this the only thing they ever do?_

“Crane… Crane… Oh god, yes,” she moans, reaching down with one hand to grab her left breast. She whimpers when he removes his face and crowds behind her.

“What are you - oh fuck!” she screams as he buries himself to the hilt again. Abbie looks back and Ichabod looks almost feral, both hands moving to her hips before he leans back just a bit and pulls her back onto his cock snugly. 

They’re reduced to grunts now as he digs his fingers into her hips and his thrusts become more erratic. One of his hands covers both of hers on the cave wall as he ruts into her and she swears she can feel him swelling inside of her before his cock starts twitching and jerking as he comes.

“Abbie… oh Abbie,” Ichabod groans. He removes his hand from over hers and runs his palm up and down her spine, watching the gentle play of shimmering gold that his fingers leave on her skin. The trails fade and he licks his lips - his mouth is incredibly dry. Abbie is still pulsing around him and he waits until it subsides to slowly withdraw from her.

Abbie slouches weakly and whimpers. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” she moans. The sound goes straight to his groin. She pants loudly then uses the wall for support to draw herself to her feet. She wobbles unsteadily then leans against the rock to tug her underwear and jeans back into place. 

“May… Maybe,” she croaks. “Maybe that… maybe that did the trick.”

She looks at Ichabod’s face. His eyes are focused on her crotch and he is licking his lips hungrily. 

_Shit, maybe not_ , she realizes. When he looks up, there is still an untamed wildness in his eyes. 

“Have your _urges_ dissipated, Lieutenant?”

Well they had, until he said _that_ and his voice sounded like sin drizzled with honey. She shakes her head. 

“But I’m sure we have time to get to that gas station before we lose our minds again.”

Her face warms and she looks away when he leans toward her and plants a hand on either side of her as he stands. Abbie’s gaze drops and a surprised sound escapes her lips as she realizes he is still half hard - and good god, how had that thing fit inside of her? She resists the urge to reach out and squeeze it...and stroke it...and drop down to her knees--see if she still has an excellent gag reflex.

Abbie shoves her hands into her pockets and looks up at Ichabod. 

“You need to put that away so we can get out of here.”

The small smirk that graces his lips tells her that _this_ isn’t done yet. A certain part of her is already eager to see what more there is to come.

No pun intended.

~*~

Abbie wishes the showering facility had been dank and disgusting. It would have made things much easier. But no. Apparently the little truck stop had recently renovated their shower facilities so the little bathroom is actually nicer than what she has at home. 

It’s the size of a small bedroom with a neatly-done tile shower stall, floors, and even the area of the bathroom has a tiled vanity with a large mirror and a small seat built next to it.

What she likes best is the detachable showerhead with three different massage settings. She is tucked behind a small divider wall in the shower, making use of it between her legs, while Ichabod is seated patiently on the built-in seat for his turn in the shower.

Abbie isn’t entirely sure why she didn’t spring for separate showers--No, wait, she knows exactly why she didn’t. It had nothing to do with saving money like Ichabod suggested with those damn… Disney… Princess… eyes. The station even provided an extra set of towels and a wash cloth for Ichabod to use at no extra charge. So while he was right and it _would_ save money, they both know why they’d opted to share a shower:

A second wave is starting to build.

Abbie shoved Ichabod onto the little seat and told him to stay put while she showered first. Then she’d slowly stripped right in front of him. He’d shifted to the edge of the seat, eyes wide, tongue going a thousand miles an hour on his lips, his fingers drumming his knees restlessly. His pupils were blown wide and his nostrils flared as he watched her undress.

“We have to resist,” Abbie had told him pointedly. Mostly, she just wanted a little privacy to make use of the shower head. It only served to frustrate her more, and she started using the shower head for its real intent. However, now her hand slithers between her legs and lightly strums at her clit.

Meanwhile Ichabod is slowly piecing things together. The urges seem to subside the more he talks about what he wants to do to her. Although once they were touching, that theory just flung itself out of the window. And it is only with Abbie.

The young lady at the counter had been quite lovely, but he hadn’t felt the slightest urge to do to her as he had already done to the Lieutenant. 

Ichabod swallows hard and he palms the front of his breeches as he thinks about the way he had taken Abbie earlier. He fists the material over his thigh and sighs raggedly, trying to resist as Abbie had said.

“Lieutenant…”

“Yes!” Abbie squeals, then clears her throat. “What is it, Crane?”

His ears prick with interest and he slowly stands. 

“Is all well?” he asks heavily. He makes quick work of the buttons of his breeches and shimmies out of them and his boxer briefs - his boots and stockings having already been removed earlier. Next he yanks his shirt off over his head. His Lieutenant sounds positively distressed, he tells himself, that is why he is getting undressed… just in case he has to fetch her out of the shower… he doesn’t want his clothing to get wet… it has absolutely nothing to do with him wanting to pound his cock into the heat between her thighs--

“It is… _so good_ ,” Abbie moans softly. “Keep talking, Crane. It… it makes me… makes... makes me feel like I’m at home and not in… a strange bathroom.”

Ichabod creeps to the archway of the shower stall. He doesn’t dare go in for fear she will shove him right back out. Resting his head against the tiled wall, he sighs. 

“Is there a specific subject you… _yearn_ for, Lieutenant?”

“Anything is fine,” she squeaks.

He feels heady for a moment then realizes it is because he is stroking himself in preparation of having Abbie again. He is all too eager to take her with reckless abandon. 

“You felt exquisite wrapped around my cock,” he growls. Ichabod hears her slight gasp and he squeezes his dick hard, wishing it was inside of her right now. “I could spend eternity bringing you to completion, feeling you tighten around me. Having your juices paint my thighs.” 

His hand is moving faster now and he uses his thumb to smear the once again copious amount of precome welling up from his slit. It makes the glide of his hand a little easier as he strains to hear Abbie. 

“What are you doing right now, Lieutenant?” he demands.

Abbie lets her head fall back against the tile, half torturing herself with how good her fingers feel inside of her. 

“I’m fucking my own hand,” she says brazenly, just beyond the point of caring. 

Ichabod has to put both hands on the tile to stay upright as he feels himself grow even harder. 

“Surely I can be of assistance again,” he says. “I made you feel good, didn’t I, Lieutenant?”

Abbie nods, though he can’t see her.

“And your hands, beautiful and strong as they are, surely cannot fill you as my fingers can. _As my cock can_ ,” he rumbles. “And it’s presently painfully hard for you once again.”

She’s so close, and Abbie cries out in frustration and longing. It’s with relief that she looks up to see Ichabod striding across the slick tile, naked and fully hard. The sight makes her squeeze her thighs together tightly to soothe the ache and she holds up her hands. 

“Wait… wait… we’re supposed to be… be…” His chest bumps her hands and she suddenly forgets what she was going to say. She slides her hands up his chest and clasps her fingers behind his neck.

Her eyes drift closed when his hands rest on her waist, nearly engulfing her entire middle. His thumbs delicately stroke the underside of her breasts. Abbie’s head falls back against the wet tile and she struggles to breathe.

“What are we supposed to be doing, Abbie?” Ichabod murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips on her jaw.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Abbie groans. 

_Oh, right_ … 

“We’re supposed to be fucking.” She opens her mouth to speak further, tell him everything she feels for him. Instead, she bites her bottom lip and squeezes her eyes shut to convince herself not to. His hand glides down her stomach and dips between her thighs. “ _Oh God_ …. I’ve wanted you so bad,” she whimpers.

Ichabod searches her face, awed by her confession. 

“My dearest Abigail,” he whispers just before dropping his mouth onto hers and kissing her deeply. His fingers draw lazy circles around her clit and slip through her folds.

For a moment the desperation seems to disappear. Abbie pulls herself flush against Ichabod, standing on her toes. His hands slide to her ass, grip, lift her feet off the floor, and press her against the shower wall as he plunders her mouth with his tongue.

At first it’s enough; being skin to skin and mouth to mouth, breathing each other in through the frantic kisses and something else that batters against the walls of Abbie’s heart. But she tamps it down and the need rushes to the forefront again, making her grind circles on Ichabod’s abdomen as she remains suspended above his hard cock.

Ichabod breaks off the kiss with a low moan. 

“How bad have you wanted it, Abigail?”

“Sometimes the best part of defeating evil is when you look at me with this... _Face_ ,” Abbie groans. “It makes me want to climb you like a tree and sit on your dick,” she pants. 

“When you read, it’s like you don’t so much as hold the book as caress it gently, like reading it is some intimate act.” Abbie shakes her head. “I don’t know how many times I was jealous of a book, and how I wanted your hands on me.”

“Where?” Ichabod groans, bumping the head of his cock against Abbie’s core. She’s so wet the moisture spreads easily, making him jerk his hips and slide his dick up and down her opening, gathering more.

“Everywhere,” Abbie babbles. “All over my body, _inside_ me. I don’t care, I just -” She scrapes her nails down Ichabod’s shoulders as he aligns himself carefully and lets gravity do the rest. Abbie slides down his shaft with an obscenely loud, wet sound as she leans her head back against the tile behind her. 

“Oh god,” she whimpers. “How are you bigger?”

“The same way your body manages to grip me ever tighter. Every time I withdraw your essence literally drips from you,” Ichabod grunts, shoving back in for emphasis.

“Do you know how wet - oh _fuck_ \- I get around you? How wet I _stay_ around you?” Abbie asks, shuddering when Ichabod leans back to stare back at her. “If it’s not something that makes your voice go all deep and rumbly, you’re closing your eyes and making this sound when you eat stuff you like… _oh shit_... and, and - it just goes straight to my clit. It takes all my self control not to crawl across the table and sit on your lap!”

“You find my enjoyment arousing?” Ichabod asks, the desperation receding just a little - enough to let him slow his strokes.

Abbie rests her forehead against his, her fingers dancing along the curve of his shoulders and his arms. She hums softly. 

“Yeah.” She catches his lips gently with hers and Ichabod begins to set a slow, languid pace, making her gasp and moan into his mouth as she slides her fingers into his hair and grasps. 

“ _God_ … Ichabod… I…”

She stops herself before words she isn’t quite ready to say come out. Not because she doesn’t feel them - god does she feel them, she can’t recollect a time she had ever felt them for anyone as she does for Ichabod - but because she knows once they’re said there would be no taking them back.

Her heart flutters and the raw desperation begins to return. Fire lights up Ichabod’s eyes as she scratches her nails across his scalp, then bites his bottom lip and softly sucks on it. Abbie feels herself constrict around his cock and Ichabod’s hips snap forward, establishing a toe-curling pace. 

It’s like scratching an itch that’s still itching. Every thrust feels so good and fans the flames, making Abbie move her hips desperately in time with Ichabod’s thrusts. His face is against hers and she hears every grunt and groan between mumbles of _so...good_ … and ... _fuck_. She wasn’t lying when she said his enjoyment turned her on - he begins to moan every time he shoves into her and it’s too much and not enough at the same time. Abbie comes hard, crying and digging her fingernails into his shoulders as he continues driving into her. 

“Damn,” Abbie pants, beginning to thrash her head back and forth against the tile. “When are you going to come?”

“I’ve been trying not to for the past three minutes,” Ichabod grunts, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. “You do not understand the manna between your thighs,” he groans, slowing his stroke and adjusting his hips. He hits something inside of Abbie and she’s scrabbling at him again, swearing. “I need to ruin you as you have ruined me,” he pants.

“That you never think another man can pleasure you the way I do,” he says, picking up speed as he continues driving into her small form. 

“ _Oh god_ \- you are divine,” Ichabod groans. It’s not until she comes again that he is able to find his release inside of her.

For several minutes, in the aftermath, he holds her against the wall, his forehead resting against hers as they pant for breath. Abbie’s head falls back against the tile and she laughs. 

“I’m going to have to shower all over again.”

“Perhaps it would go much more quickly if I assisted you?” he asks, arching a teasing brow. He lowers her to her feet. She moans softly as she loses the fullness he provided her between her legs.

Abbie looks up at him and strokes his chest. 

“I have a feeling that your idea of helping would lead to more sex.”

His eyes roam over her body as she leans back against the wall. Her bare breasts still heave as she tries to regain her breath. The way her stomach muscles are clenching and unclenching make his fingers itch to touch. The visual feast of the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. His breath hitches at the sight of his spent seed slithering down her thighs. 

His returns his gaze to hers. 

“I believe you are correct in that assumption, Lieutenant.”

She shivers and blinks at him. Her arms fold over her chest to hide the way her nipples tighten at his scrutiny. They both have a feeling, whatever is going on - whatever is making them forget themselves and fuck like animals - it’s far from being finished with them.

And they both realize that resisting only made it worse. Which leaves only the option of giving in as quickly as possible when the urges begin. But that’s only a theory so Abbie holds her tongue until she can test it.

With the haze of lust gone, she and Ichabod stand next to each other and concentrate on getting as clean as they can. Abbie rubs her skin raw - there isn’t any evidence of any pollen on her skin save what she can feel and it feels like there is still a thick layer of… _something_ coating her skin.

But she’s not so far gone she’s going to attempt to wash her skin off, and Ichabod looks away when they pull on their clothes. Abbie’s not super happy with what she has to wear, considering it was what she wore to the club with Jenny and Sophie weeks ago - sans underwear - but it’s better than putting on the pollinated stuff again. 

As long as she doesn’t concentrate on the no underwear part.

A headache settles at the base of her skull and suddenly driving looks less and less appealing. Ichabod turns and Abbie throws him the keys as she turns to the exit. 

“You’re driving,” she says, and doesn’t look back.


	4. Chapter Four

They were somewhere on the back roads near New Haven, Connecticut when the third wave hit Abbie like a ton of bricks. She blamed Ichabod whole heartedly because she warned him to watch for bumpy roads but he seemed to delight in finding every grooved bit of pavement and portion of road in need of repair that the interstate had available before she put him on the scenic route.

The scenic route was ten times worse.

He blamed her legs being on display to which she called bullshit because he had seen her legs plenty of times.

“And what makes you think I had not given a multitude of thought about the shorts you wore with your Halloween costuming, Lieutenant?” He grumbled, taking his eyes away from the road for a moment to watch her squeeze her thighs together tightly and then let them fall open. He was grasping the shifter between them with a white knuckle grip even though there was no need for him to go through gears in an automatic.

“Ichabod,” Abbie moaned softly. “I think… the resisting isn’t working…” She bit her bottom lip when Ichabod nearly ran off the road, causing her to bounce in the seat until he managed to get back on the road. “Jesus… I think it just makes it worse.”

She could hear the soft protest of her shifter when his grip became even tighter. Her eyes fell to his groin and she could tell he was straining. “I can’t do anything for you just yet but…” Abbie started. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet before.”

Before she could try to sooth it herself - even though she knew it wouldn’t work - she felt Ichabod’s fingers at her knee. She looked to his face, his eyes were on the road, his other hand was still on the steering wheel. Abbie shivered as his fingers crept up her thigh. She reached down to the side of the seat, pulled the lever to lay her seat back, then put her right foot on the dashboard.

She cried out with relief as soon as his fingers slipped between her folds. “Damn, that feels so good,” she groans, already working her hips in tandem with his fingers.

Ichabod shudders. “You’re taking three of my fingers, Abigail. _Three_ ,” he says, moving the digits deeply within her. 

Abbie’s hands are beneath her shirt, on her braless breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between her fingers. When she looks back to Ichabod he is looking straight ahead still but biting his lip.

She reached for him but only managed to lightly scratch the surface of his coat as he continued driving his fingers into her rapidly. His fingers almost felt as good as having his dick inside of her. But the thought of the other made her clench around his invading digits. “This feels so good,” she groans. “But I’d rather have your cock.”

Ichabod swallows, forcing himself not to look over at Abbie as he continues to move his hand. “You’ve soaked me to the wrist,” he says weakly, dragging his fingers against her walls as he withdraws and pushes back in. “I wish I were not in control of this vehicle or I would gladly sheath myself inside of you without thought or delay.”

“So pull over,” Abbie groans, rolling her hips down against his hand. “God, you’ve gotta be so hard right now. Oh damn,” she says weakly as Ichabod removes his hand and licks his fingers as if starving.

Alone on this backroad, they pass what looks to be an abandoned building with a dirt parking lot next to it. Ichabod expertly jerks the wheel and the SUV spins into a 180, allowing him to backtrack and pull into the empty lot. He parks the car at the far end of the lot, against the wall and away from the prying eyes that may or may not come from the road. 

He leans back his seat just enough to have the intent to clamour from the seat but before he can do so, Abbie is climbing into his lap, freeing him from his breeches.

“Ohhh… _God… Yes…_ ,” Abbie squeals as she sinks down on his lap. “Shit… You're so hard.” She grasps the seat behind his shoulders and shimmies her way down his dick, until he's buried deep and every swirl of her hips has the soft hair at the base of his cock grinding against her clit.

“Abbie… Oh my beloved Abigail,” Ichabod groans. He cups her ass and drags her against him. “I have longed to be with you like this for so long… Grace Abigail… I...”

Abbie shut him up quick with her mouth on his, biting his bottom lip then shoving her tongue greedily into his mouth. She wasn't ready for feelings other than the feeling between her legs at that moment. Physical she could handle. Emotional had to wait until the effects of the pollen wore off.

She grasped his jaw tightly as her small hand allowed to keep him in place as she plundered his mouth. Each time he thrust up against her she moaned into his mouth. She pulled back just enough to hotly vow, “Wait until I get you home Ichabod Crane. I'm gonna pin you down on my bed and ride you like I've been wanting to do for the past three years.”

“For the past three years?” Ichabod groans in disbelief, tightening his grip on her ass, pulling her against him harder and faster. 

Abbie moans in gratitude. “Shit, yes,” she shudders, falling back against the steering wheel as she continues to work her hips. “Do you know how many times you’ve touched my back or my wrist or when you’ve brushed past me with that damn smile of yours? Or how your face lights up with joy when you’ve solved some ancient code or you’re able to remember some insane tidbit from hundreds of years ago?” She falls forward, pressing her face against his neck and inhaling deeply. “God, you smell so good,” she grunts. 

“You like to sit so close when we watch movies and I have to keep my hands out of my panties because you don’t smell like any man I’ve ever met and it drives me insane and keeps me wet,” Abbie babbles, uncaring of how it sounded. “How do you remind me of something I’ve never know, yet miss?”

“You ask the enthralled how their enchantment works?” Ichabod widens his legs and thrusts up sharply, revelling in the way Abbie pauses and shudders. “As if your own skin doesn’t hold the secret to my torment and salvation. As if I wouldn’t gladly remove a limb if it meant that everything I owned would be doused in your unique scent.”

Abbie arched back and ground down on Ichabod’s dick as he thrust harder into her. She came hard, her walls clenching him tightly just moments before she saturated the front of his breeches and the end of his shirt with her juices. Ichabod followed soon after, holding her firmly against him as he filled her. 

She clawed at his chest and shirt in desperation, grinding down on him. “Fuck! Ichabod! Oh god… I just want you to come inside of me over and over again… it feels so good, baby.”

His eyes darkened. Abbie gasped as his seat fell back and next she knew she was being pressed into the seat. He was still hard as steel inside of her. Ichabod flung off his coat and then his shirt soon followed. His hands dragged up her top and his mouth descended onto her breasts.

“Whatever you desire my treasure,” Ichabod half purred, half growled. 

Abbie cried out softly when he sucked hard at one of her nipples then released it with a loud _smack_ of his lips. She swore when he hooked her knees over his arms, grasped the back of the seat, and set a punishing pace of slamming his cock into her.

“Oh shit… oh shit,” Abbie shrieked. It felt like he was trying to rip her in half and it felt _so damn good_. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been so thoroughly _fucked_. She doubted she would ever forget this. She doubted Ichabod would ever _let her_ forget.

There would be so much talking after this damn pollen wore off… And even if they didn't talk about it, he'd be there giving her those big, blue, puppy dog eyes.

“I want to taste you again, Treasure,” Ichabod murmured, his voice gruff and lustful.

 _Treasure_? That didn't sound like a pollen induced endearment. Abbie's eyes flashed as she licked her lips. “Then taste me.”

Her heart almost leapt out through her throat when he lifted her from the seat with ridiculous ease. She squealed and wrapped one arm around his neck while the other hand clamored to grip at anything for support.

She was deposited further up the seat back and before she could even think to ask what he was doing, he had withdrew from her and his face was buried between her legs. 

Abbie could freely admit that she had thought about Ichabod going down on her. It had been the source of more than a few of her late night fantasies. But he had always been timid and in need of guidance on what to do. 

The reality was better than anything she could have dreamed. The reality had her fisting his hair with both hands, screaming out his name, as the SUV was filled with the sound of his deep, throaty moans and the soft noise of her clit slipping from between his eager lips.

When he slipped his fingers inside of her and twisted his wrist. Abbie's entire mind, body, and soul seemed to convulse. She found herself suddenly unable to breathe. Her entire body turned boneless as she saw stars appear.

When awareness crept back, she was aware of Ichabod gently stroking her chin as he placed feathery kisses on her face. “Abigail,” he whispered against her jaw.

“Nnnmmmggghh,” was the only thing Abbie was able to get to leave her throat.

“Treasure…”

“Mmmm…”

“Do you still desire to have me release inside of you?” he asked softly.

Her walls clenched at the thought. She nodded weakly. “Mmhmm…” Abbie arched and moaned loudly as she felt him sheath himself between her thighs. “‘chbod…” Her hands drifted down his sides and slid around to grasp his ass as he slowly withdrew and slid back home again. “Ichabod… Icha… ooohhh…”

With a loud groan, his cock pulsated inside of her. “Oh Abigail…” he pressed deeper, bowing his back as his groin pushed forward. His big hands grasped her shoulders, holding her in place as he emptied himself inside of her.

Ichabod fell forward onto her and they remained that way for some minutes, trying to gather the mental faculties necessary to part. At least that’s what Abbie told herself as her hands drifted up Ichabod’s bare back, enjoying the shift and play of muscles beneath his skin. 

“Better?” he asks, his mouth against her temple. 

“Yes,” she murmurs - warm, satiated, and right where she wants to be. Abbie feels Ichabod begin to move but she tightens her grip on him, refusing to open her eyes and see his face. She’s not ready to let him go yet, out of her arms or her body. 

_Get it together, Mills_ , she thinks and she sniffs and pats his shoulder. “I can drive now,” Abbie says, biting her lip to keep from groaning when Ichabod withdraws. 

Ichabod merely looks at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, nothing in his tone sounding like he’s asking about her ability to pilot a vehicle. 

“Yeah. I’m good.” Abbie tugs her shirt down and glances toward the back of the SUV. “I think we’ve still got those washcloths I meant to return but never could find the receipt.” 

Ichabod moves away to the passenger side and uses his considerable height to reach into the back seat and find the washcloths, still bound together by an invisible, yet hard string punctured through the middle. He breaks it easily and hands Abbie one, resolutely keeping his thoughts on anything and everything platonic while he takes one and cleans himself thoroughly before putting himself away and doing up his pants. 

By the time he’s done Abbie’s set her clothes to rights and looks as if nothing happened as she speeds them out of the parking lot and navigates back onto the empty interstate. Neither speak until the outskirts of Sleepy Hollow. “We need a plan,” Abbie says into the silence.

“I will follow your lead, Lieutenant,” Ichabod murmurs, unsure of the strange energy between them. 

“Jenny and Joe are waiting for us at the archives,” she says. “I’ve got two missed calls from Jenny and I know she’s probably tried you a few times as well.”

Ichabod honestly hasn’t thought of his phone since they began their trek out of the caves. It’s in his coat pocket so he must reach into the back seat to retrieve it. “It is as you said, Miss Jenny has called a total of four times.”

“We should go home first,” Abbie says. “Shower and change so we don’t smell like -”

“Copious and frenzied copulation?” Ichabod asks dryly. When Abbie cracks a smile he feels a bloom of warmth in his chest that has nothing to do with his groin.

Thank god.

“Right. It looks like this might be behind us, so no need to tell them anything that’s happened. Especially Joe; he’ll just worry and want to get us tested to see what it was.”

“Nothing of this day shall leave my lips,” Ichabod vows. And why should it, he thinks, when he is blessed with an eidetic memory?


	5. Chapter Five

Ichabod sat upon the edge of his bed, staring at his hands as though they were foreign objects. His face warmed when he thought about how they had pleasured his Lieutenant earlier that day. 

It had been both terrifying and liberating to feel so out of control. To be unafraid to tell the Lieutenant about his darkest desires and to do deeds he had only heard of - and inadvertently witnessed - while at Benjamin Franklin’s home.

But then guilt trickled into the edges of his consciousness. _How dare he disrespect the Lieutenant in such a way? She deserved far better than mindless rutting and to have him speak as he had._

However, he also recalled she had been just as amorous as he and her tongue had been just as deliciously wicked. They had both --

“Crane?”

Ichabod shook his head to clear it and looked toward the Lieutenant. She stood in his doorway in a silken bathrobe. He shifted on the bed and curled his treacherous fingers into the duvet. He told himself that the Lieutenant owed no apologies and that she would probably have no desire to speak of this day's transgressions.

Abbie looked down at her feet nervously and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Quite a day, huh?” she asked. 

He smiled and nodded mutely. “Indeed, Lieutenant. The kind of day which serves to remind us to tread more carefully whilst exploring cavernous lairs.”

She shrugged indifferently. “Or to explore what's right in front of us more intently.”

Ichabod studied her face, searching for any indication that the pollen was still very much in effect. She shook her head.

“Sorry… I just thought…” she said with a bitter laugh. “Forget it. It was a stupid idea anyway.”

Ichabod’s heart raced. “By all means, Lieutenant, share.”

She walked across the room silently. When she reached him she tucked his hair behind his ear as she searched his face. “Just as a precaution…” the Lieutenant started. “I thought, maybe we should… _you know_... to see if it is all gone from our systems of course.”

He blinked at her, mouth hanging ajar. His eyes roved over, as though her petite form held some sort of clue. When he reached her eyes again, there was only raw, _normal_ want there. None of the desperation bordering insanity that had been there earlier.

Similarly he was feeling only the usual amount of desire he felt for his Lieutenant. It was still strong but it wasn't consuming his very being as it had been.

“I agr--”

Before he could finish, Abbie had taken his face in her tiny hands and pressed her lips to his. Ichabod immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her between his legs as their mouths moved languidly against each other, tasting and exploring the other with leisure.

His hands touched the warm skin of her lower thighs and slowly moved upward, underneath her robe. Ichabod gasped into her mouth and pulled back, eyes wide as his hands reached her backside.

“ _Miss Mills_ ,” he gawked. One corner of Abbie's mouth pulled into a delightful little smirk. “Would I be too bold in assuming you are not wearing anything underneath your dressing gown?”

Wordlessly, Abbie untied the robe and let it fall with a soft whisper of fabric, to the floor. “What do you think?” she asked with a twang of amusement in her voice.

Ichabod made a soft choking sound as he gazed over her once again. This time he took in the way the gentle sunlight caressed her skin, the way shadows fell in each delightful dip and curve. “Abbie,” he whispered reverently. “You are…” He shook his head to clear it. “I have studied tales and have devoured tomes of ancient text. But I cannot find the words to adequately convey just how enthralling you are.”

Abbie felt her face warm. “I don't know about _enthralling_... hmm mmmppphh…”

Her protest was stifled against Ichabod's lips. As she clamoured into his lap she couldn’t help but think this was going far better than she had thought it would when the idea came to her as she got ready to get into the shower. Normally she was able to chuckle at the thought of going to Ichabod’s room and seducing him then shove it right out of her brain. But today… after everything that had transpired…

Remembering his lips on her body, his heated confessions, the way it felt as he slid inside of her over and over again… she had found herself at his bedroom door before she could say ‘Hoe, don’t do it.’ And now his hands were on her again, a gentle warmth was settling in the pit of her belly, she was fisting his shirt as her hands roamed over his shoulders.

She made a small sound as his hand drifted over her stomach then down between her thighs. “Oh… shit,” she moaned loudly, when his fingers slipped between her folds. Abbie drew one of her knees up to rest on Ichabod’s thigh as his fingers teased and probed deeply inside of her. Her head fell back and his lips immediately went to her collarbone to nip and suck at her skin. 

Part of her wanted to be embarrassed about just how wet she already was with so little effort. Ichabod’s free hand cupped one of her breasts and his lips dropped lower, placing feather light kisses on the flesh of her breast before his tongue whirled around the dusky peak and he took her nipple into his mouth.

Her hips swifted and swirled as she tried to ride his hand, more small noises slipped between her lips. Abbie reached down to palm Ichabod’s groin through his breeches. “Oh my god,” she croaked.

Ichabod released her nipple with a soft wet noise. “Is something amiss, Lieutenant?”

Abbie shivered. Dammit, ‘Lieutenant’ sounded even sexier when his voice was low and husky with desire. She shook her head. “It’s just…” she whispered. “I thought… _Oh god_...” her hips thrust against him as his fingers found a spot that made her feel all kinds of things. Fuck! How did one say ‘I thought the pollen is what made your dick so big’ without it being insulting? “Ichabod,” she whimpered. “Is… is… is this…” she groped him through his breeches “...normally like this when… you’re… feeling… amorous?”

She looked at his face as his eyes glimmered mischievously. “I assure you, Lieutenant… everything in that arena is indeed normal,” he murmured. 

Abbie tightened her grip on the thick column of flesh in her grasp as she shuddered out a groan. “I want to sit on it,” she said, working her hips a little faster against Ichabod’s hand. 

“Your glorious mouth says you wish to _sit on it_ , but your body seems to crave completion by my hand,” Ichabod rumbles against her collarbone. “Which is it, Lieutenant? What do you want from me?”

_Everything_ , Abbie thinks but she refuses - flat out refuses - to let that word past her lips. Suddenly every nerve ending feels like it’s connected to electricity and all she can do is gasp as she comes hard on Ichabod’s hand as he presses his fingers hard against the spot inside of her. Abbie screams and claws at his shoulders as coats his hand to the wrist, wantonly spreading her legs wider when he flips them around to press her against the bed.

“Yes,” Abbie groans as Ichabod falls against her, licking, sucking, and biting gently down her body until he comes to a stop between her thighs, nuzzling his face against her drenched core before parting her folds with his tongue and an enthusiastic moan. “ _Fuck_!” she cried out, tossing her head back and forth as Ichabod began to lave his tongue against her clit in tandem with his fingers thrusting in and out of her body.

“I thought you would never ask,” Ichabod purred.

Abbie lifted her head and watched Ichabod divest himself of clothing with graceful, economical movements. By the time he stepped out of his underwear she’s got her fingers against her own clit, staring at his fully hard cock. He crawled onto the bed, pinning her in place with the desire in his gaze.

“Lieutenant, breathe,” he said gently, and Abbie inhaled as soon as his hands touched her hips. That was the only warning she had before he flipped her over and grabbed two handfuls of her ass greedily.

“ _Oh god_ ,” Abbie screamed as Ichabod slid all the way in with one stroke. “Fuck,” she swore, clenching around the steel of him inside and feeling his hips pressed against her ass.

“As my lieutenant wishes,” Ichabod said, and if Abbie feels a little smug at how strained his voice is, that’s her pettiness showing.

“What I wish is - _oh fuck_ ,” Abbie groans, her snarky comment forgotten when he bends his lanky ass forward to pin her wrists to the mattress before adjusting his knees and fucking her with long, sure strokes that hit her spot every time he bottomed out inside of her. 

His squeezed her thighs together tighter with his knees adding to the friction between their bodies and making him feel even bigger, thicker, and harder than she already knew him to be. Abbie clenched and unclenched the bedsheets in her fists as she fought to hold it together, to keep from coming entirely too quick.

Ichabod reached up and delicately brushed her hair away from her neck, twisting the soft locks around his hand until he could lightly nip at her ear. “Is this what you wanted, Treasure?” he asked hotly. 

“Yes,” Abbie sobbed. 

“You only ever needed to have said, my beloved Abigail,” he moaned softly. “And all this time…” A small squeal escaped her lips when he snapped his hips hard against her. “We could have…” Her breath hitched as he thrust deeper. “...been…” 

Abbie shifted the angle of her hips to get him fully inside of her. He sat back on her legs, the hand full of her hair remained at the nape of her neck, his other hand snaked between her legs to gently thrum her clit.

“Oh god, that’s not fair,” Abbie wailed as she tried to move away from his clever fingers, tightening around him so hard Ichabod shuddered and swore. 

“We could have been dedicating our off hours determining exactly how many times I could make you come on my cock,” Ichabod groaned, feeling the telltale pulse of her around him as he began thrusting shallowly. 

Abbie wanted to call him arrogant and a bunch of other things but the words died in her throat as she came hard and long, unable to do much but yank desperately on the sheets as she tried to move. Shuddering from lingering sparks of pleasure, Abbie remembered to breathe and groaned as certain body parts flexed involuntarily. “You’re still hard,” she murmured as she clenched around Ichabod again just to make his hips snap forward.

“What would I be if I found my pleasure before yours, Abigail?” Ichabod rumbled.

She laughed. “Human,” she said. “Or like ninety-seven percent of the men I’ve dated before?”

“I hold myself to a higher standard,” Ichabod said dryly.

“But you _do_ intend on coming sometime this century, right?” she jokes. “We’re expected at the archives.”

Ichabod nuzzled the back of her neck. “Those who expect too much will oft be disappointed, my dear Lieutenant.” He placed soft kisses on her neck. “But you, my dearest, shall never be the one to be so. If you desire my release then you shall certainly have it.”

Her walls fluttered around his cock and Abbie rested her forehead against the sheets as she groaned softly. “I do,” she admitted, barely above a whisper. “I… _desire_ it.”

Ichabod withdrew from Abbie’s body and turned her over, kissing her deeply as he nudged her legs open and pushed inside again without hesitation. “Abigail…” he softly whispered against her lips. “Look at me.”

Abbie’s eyes fluttered open. He was so close she could still feel his breath on her lips as he drove into her. “Ich…” She came completely undone once again and he followed soon after.

She felt boneless as they panted heavily in the afterglow. Abbie wasn't completely sure she _could_ make it to the Archives. What she did know was that her and Ichabod needed to be around other people.

Being around other people seemed to help them keep from fucking each other's brains out. But oddly enough, it seemed to only affect them specifically. She didn't feel compelled to mount any and every man around and… Ichabod… well… 

“Will you stop with those eyes already,” Abbie chuckled. “It's already hard enough to resist you because of this pollen… I don't need it to feel like you're about to bust into a song about how you feel about me.”

Ichabod took one of her hands and softly kissed the tips of her fingers. “Ballads would hardly encapsulate what I am feeling right now… What song would you have me sing instead, my dearest Abbie? Or shall we partake of a duet?”

Abbie laughed. “We just _had_ a duet,” she said. “But any singing will need to wait - we’ve got to update Jenny and Joe and I think another shower is in order.” She pushed him off and climbed out the bed, trying not to let herself feel any kind of way about anything. “Twenty minutes and we need to be walking out the door,” Abbie said as she pulled on her robe. Ichabod sat up in his bed, his expression slightly inscrutable. “What?” she asked.

Ichabod seemed to think better of what he was going to say. “I will be ready, Lieutenant,” he said with a nod, and Abbie left before her stupid brain could over analyze everything she specifically didn’t want to think about.


	6. Chapter Six

“We got this,” Abbie said for about the fiftieth time since the last red light. “We have _so_ got this.” She pointed at Ichabod without even looking his way even once. “Do _not_ do that archey eyebrowey thing at me. We got this.”

Abbie couldn't explain it but out of nowhere she had started feeling the effects of the pollen again. She was pretty sure the root cause was that sound Ichabod made when tasting something delicious.

Maybe stopping at the designer bakery thing hadn't been as good of an idea in hindsight. She had only herself to blame. Especially when Ichabod laid eyes on the “Lavender Cronut with saffron glaze.” 

Abbie pulled into a parking spot and clutched the wheel tightly for a moment. “We got this,” she whispered one last time. “We hold together better when around others.”

Ichabod, who was definitely doing the ‘archey eyebrowey thing’ and had been since Abbie started shifting uncomfortably in her seat, nodded curtly. “Or… one of the entries into the munition tunnels is close by…”

“Ichabod, no,” Abbie groaned. “We’re trying to get this to _stop_. So we can… forget this happened and… go back to… being…” tears stung her eyes for a moment. “All of this is just the pollen. The pollen is what's making us feel this way. Once we figure out how to get rid of it… we'll go back to normal.”

She shuddered as her body did it's best to betray her. Finally she looked toward Ichabod. He was now watching his hands fidgeting in his lap. He closed his eyes, “Lieutenant,” he said firmly. “You and I have been close confidante and friends since my arrival in this century…”

Oh no, Abbie thought. He was gearing up for one of his infamous speeches about fate and destiny that sounded like a wedding vow. She thrust the car door open and looked at him pointedly, “Inside now.” When his eyes flashed with wicked intent she amended, “Inside the Archives.”

She shut the door and scampered up the steps quickly. Just as she suspected, the moment they were in the main building, the urges tempered themselves. She waited for Crane to catch up before they walked to the Archives.

“God, another couple of hours and we were going to come after you,” Jenny quipped dryly.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Joe said. “She was tracking your phone hours ago.”

Abbie tightened her poker face as she glared at Jenny. “What’d I tell you about using that app without an emergency?”

“How was I supposed to know it _wasn’t_ an emergency? Oh, yeah - you could’ve picked up your damn phone any number of times I tried to call. It’s not like we’re the only ones who want the spear,” Jenny pointed out. She watched Ichabod and her sister exchange a strange glance and narrowed her eyes. “Those faces don’t look excited to have the spear of life.”

“Because these faces don’t have the spear of life,” Abbie deadpanned as she sat down next to Joe. “It was a bust.”

“It was broken?” Joe asked, sliding over two large Starbucks cups to where Abbie could reach.

“It had already been plundered,” Ichabod said as he accepted one of the drinks from Abbie gratefully. 

“When?” Joe asked.

“No clue,” Abbie said. “Long enough ago that there was dust in the box. Dust in the box, dust in most of the traps that still worked. Dust everywhere.”

“You look clean enough,” Jenny said. “Stopped for a shower?”

Immediately an image of what they had done in the truck stop shower came to Ichabod in startling clarity and he tightened his grasp on his cup and swallowed against the surge of desire that lanced through his body. “It was nothing,” he said quickly.

“What was nothing?” Joe asked.

“Nothing, like the man said,” Abbie snapped. 

Joe looked at her funny. “Jenny just asked a simple question… sorry if it… offended you?”

Abbie and Ichabod shared a look. His face flushed and be glanced away. Abbie sighed. “We accidentally set off one of the traps and there was this pollen stuff that… we're not exactly sure what it's meant to do.”

“There was an inscription which I was unable to translate before the trap was… set off,” Ichabod added.

For a moment it almost felt like the surge of lust subsided. 

Jenny blinked at them. “Have you two been feeling anything weird or found yourselves acting stranger than normal?”

“Nope!” Abbie snipped the same moment Ichabod gawked, “Absolutely _not_.”

Abbie bit back a whimper when a pang of lust ripped through her, making her double over and groan. At the same exact moment Ichabod squeezed his eyes shut and balled his hand into a tight fist to push back a similar feeling. 

Joe jumped to his feet. “Whoa… that's not normal you guys. Are you Okay? Are you in pain?”

“We're fine,” Abbie said weakly. “Like Ichabod said. There was an inscription…” Jenny stepped toward her sister but Abbie waved her hand. “It may or may not be contagious… Oh shit… owww…”

“Joe,” Jenny stated. “I’m going to go to the cavern… you stay he--”

“No!” both Abbie and Ichabod objected.

Ichabod sucked in a breath. “Surely it would prove safer if… Master Corbin would join you on your journey Miss Jenny?” He glanced toward Abbie and could see the desire burning in her eyes as she stared at him.

Both Jenny and Joe gone so they could work through whatever was happening? Abbie couldn't help but think that was the best idea in the history of ever.

Jenny scoffed. “I don't need hel--”

“There's places in the cavern you can use a second pair of hands. Trust me,” Abbie said quickly. All she could think about was Ichabod’s hands between her legs and the bits of filth he had uttered while fucking her with his fingers. She shivered. “You two should go… I mean, it's probably only going to get worse unless we can find out what that inscription said.”

“We shall be fine in the meantime,” Ichabod assured. 

After a moment, Jenny nodded. “All right. Fine. Let's go, Joe.”

There is no sound in the room save for the shuffling of gathering jackets and the heavy click of the archive doors closing behind Jenny and Joe. Abbie realized she had been holding her breath when Ichabod picked her up and dropped her on her back on the table and spread her legs.

Ichabod can only groan at the sight before him - she’s not wearing any underwear and he is immensely grateful as he falls forward face first, licking and sucking as deeply as he can, greedily coveting the sounds he pulled from Abbie as she came immediately, grinding herself against his face desperately. 

He could’ve remained like that for _hours_ but his cock twitched heavily between his legs and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. Ichabod lifted his head from the oasis between Abbie’s thighs and licked his lips, his lower face almost completely drenched. “Lieutenant, do you know how often I have dreamt of doing just this on this very table?”

Abbie laughed weakly as her core clenched around nothing. “Probably half as often as I dreamed about you doing it,” she said.

“Turn over, Lieutenant,” he rumbled. 

“What?”

“I do believe you’re in full control of your auditory sense,” Ichabod said lowly. “Therefore I wish you to turn over so I may see that glorious backside of yours as I fuck you.”

Abbie’s brows arched. “I _knew it_ you're an ass man,” she teased, seconds before Ichabod sighed impatiently and turned her over himself.

“I assure you, Lieutenant,” Ichabod murmured in her ear, his hands gliding up her hips. “I adore every inch of you.”

Abbie was about to come up with a witty response, she really was, it had been on the tip of her tongue. But all her capabilities for speaking fled the moment Ichabod pushed inside of her with one deep stroke.

All she could do was moan and grasp the edge of the table to hold on as she felt the thick, heaviness of Ichabod’s cock gliding in and out of her rapidly. “Shit!” she cried out when he hit just the right spot. “Fuck! Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“Does it feel good, Abigail?” Ichabod growled. 

Abbie pounded the table with her fist, biting her lip in a vain attempt to keep from coming. “ _Yes_! It feels so good… don't stop. Don't stop. _Fuck_!” She was so damn close… she had no doubt with just a couple more strokes…

Ichabod’s knees quivered and buckled, sending his backside onto the seat he had vacated.

“Forgive me, you felt so good my knees gave way,” Ichabod panted.

“No,” Abbie whined, groaning at how close she was, how close she still is. She scooted back, off the table and dropped herself onto Ichabod’s lap, right onto his still hard cock. “Yes,” she screamed as she slowly sank down the turgid length of Ichabod’s dick. Abbie slammed her fist against the table, swearing unintelligibly at how good it felt. 

“Lieutenant,” Ichabod groaned, his hands on her waist as he slid further into her body. The wet glide down made his toes curl in his boots and his eyes roll up into his head and he didn’t breathe until her glorious ass was nestled tightly against his groin. 

“God, sometimes I think you’re too big,” Abbie panted, leaning forward against the table as she swallowed repeatedly. Suddenly irritated by the feel of material against her flesh, she pulled off her jacket and the dress to reveal nothing but glorious brown skin.

Ichabod’s mouth dropped open at the sudden ocular feast and he flexed inside of her, making Abbie’s back bow with a groan. “Lieutenant…” he said weakly, letting his hands travel up her torso to cup her breasts.

Abbie falls back against Ichabod with a shudder. “Yes,” she groaned as she began to work her hips. “You feel so good… I need it… I need…” She braced her hands on the table and began to rise and fall on Ichabod’s cock, wet enough that he slides completely to the hilt with no resistance. 

“Take it,” Ichabod groaned, his hands back at her waist as he watched his cock, shining with her juices, disappear into the tiny body of his beloved Lieutenant. He is transfixed at how her essence drips out of her when she lifts herself up to the top of his manhood and the slick, saturated sound his length makes as it pushes back inside of her when she bounces her ass against him. 

“Oh god, give it to me,” Abbie groans, thighs burning. She’s close again but she doesn’t know if she can keep up the movement to get the end she needs.

Ichabod feels her thighs tremble against his and he stands, still inside of her, and bears them down to the floor. Immediately Abbie falls to her knees and begins throwing it back at him even faster than before and Ichabod watches as she essentially fucks herself with his cock. “Do you like it, Abbie?” he asks, forcing himself not to move.

Abbie whined and nodded, tossing her hair and crying out. Ichabod surprises her and thrusts forward hard when she comes back at him and it hits that part inside of her that makes her see stars. Abbie screamed and arched her back, starting to come as Ichabod establishes a brutal pace, driving into her deeply. He continued to fuck her through her orgasm and when the relief burned away she began babbling for his cock again.

Ichabod swore and withdrew from her then turned her over onto her back. Before Abbie could lament the loss of him inside of her, he slid in again and braced himself above her. “Abbie,” he moaned softly. “Look at me, Abbie.”

Abbie shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Abbie…”

“I can't…” she whimpered. She knew what she would see if she opened her eyes. And she wasn't ready to face that just yet. 

Ichabod took her face in his hands and kissed her soundly. Abbie sighed into his mouth as she sagged against the floor. He rested his forehead against hers.

“Abbie…” he whispered pleadingly. “Look at me… Grace Abigail Mills.”

Her eyes fluttered open and sure enough, she saw the one thing she didn't want to confront. She shook her head. “Don't say it…”

The words fell from his lips anyway, on a reverent whisper. It was the most beautiful sound Abbie had ever heard and she yanked his mouth against hers to make him stop saying it.

He groaned into her mouth as he pressed deep inside of her, his cock pulsing inside of her as he found release. Afterwards they lay upon the floor panting for breath. Abbie wrapped her arms around Ichabod’s head and kissed his hair. 

“Why did… you say that, Ichabod,” she whispered. “I told you not to.”

Ichabod lifted his head. He stared at her as though seeing her for the very first time. “Because it's true, Abbie. I am, without any doubts, _in_ love with you. I have been for some time.” He trailed his finger over her bottom lip. “I have merely been afraid you would not feel the same.”

Tears stung Abbie’s eyes and she looked away. She shook her head. “I can’t…” she whispered. “Not like this…”

He closed his eyes and nodded lightly. “Do not, by any means, feel you are obligated to respond, Lieutenant,” he replied, then kissed her forehead. “I would wait a thousand years if that is what it took in order for you to feel at ease with returning my affections or telling me you do not.”

Abbie almost began to sob and tell him, yes. Yes. Yes she felt the same. But she didn’t want it to be because of some stupid pollen in a stupid cave had gotten them aroused to the point they couldn’t control themselves. Besides, what if the only reason he was spouting an admission of love was because of the pollen? Surely there would have been some indication before now that he felt that way?

She gasped softly when she felt Crane withdraw from her body. His eyes were suddenly wide, as though his brain had finally pieced something together--and she hoped it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the way he had just admitted to feeling. Ichabod yanked his breeches into place and haphazardly buttoned them. Abbie licked her lips wondering if he would be opposed to her unfastening those breeches and--she needed to stop.

Sure they had agreed on the car ride back home that if they needed to do what needed to be done while affected by the pollen. But that didn’t mean she had to suck Crane’s dick five seconds after he got done fucking her. It was getting insane. To the point she wasn’t sure what was her actual feelings and compulsions and what was the pollen.

Abbie slowly stood, cringing gently when she felt a twinge between her legs that had nothing to with the activities they had just finished and everything to do with the fact the pollen was making her want to do it again… already.

“I’m going to go get us some coffees,” Abbie said breathlessly, wanting to give herself at least a small amount of breathing room before the pollen had her in such a state she was wanting to screw the barista.

~*~

Ichabod rubbed the golden substance between his fingers. It was a bit of the pollen that had gotten held up in his coat pocket. It wasn’t until he had confessed his love to Abbie that his mind had suddenly felt… free. It had no longer felt ruled by the compulsions of the pollen.

And that was when he realized he recognized the effects. Because he had been doused with it before. By none other than Thomas Jefferson. There was a minute possibility it was not the same substance from the past. But there was certainly one way to find out. And God knew it might very well drive him insane in the process.

He scooped as much of the pollen from his coat pocket as he could, took one of the canteens sitting on the table, poured himself a small cup of the water, and dropped the pollen into the water. Ichabod watched as the pollen shimmered in the water then fade, then drank the entire cup of water.

Now all there was to do was wait.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the thrilling conclusion...

Abbie picked up the coffees from the counter and hurried out of Starbucks as quickly as possible. She dashed into her car and probably broke the sound barrier trying to get back to the Archives… maybe. There wasn’t anything in particular that had set it off this time. But she had suddenly just wanted to get back to the Archives and do what she had wanted to do before going to get the coffees.

However, when she returned, Ichabod didn’t so much as look up from the numerous books stacked around him at the table. For a moment she was disappointed, but then a smile crept to her lips and she eased the cup of coffee across to him. “Grande Cafe Americano,” she said, using a low, sexy voice.

Ichabod slowly looked up at her, his pupils dilated, fingers fidgeting restlessly. He reached over to take the cup, his hand brushing up the side of her wrist before drawing back to grasp the coffee. “Thank you Lieutenant, this is much appreciated,” he murmured then lowered his nose back to the books.

Abbie blinked at him in confusion. _What the hell_? That hadn't been the response she had been hoping for. Then again, maybe it was a bit much to hope for that he just knock everything--books, coffee, scrolls, everything--off of the table and drag her across it and urge her to her knees in front of him. After all, he wasn’t psychic.

“Ichabod,” Abbie purred, leaning over to rest her elbows on the table in a way that showed off her _assets_. She heard him suck in a sharp breath and he looked her straight in the eyes.

His fingers ticked in the air as he stared at her. “Lieutenant…” he said softly. His eyes dropped to her lips when her tongue darted over them. Suddenly he shook his head to clear it and pointed to one of the shelves. “Could you fetch a tome by the name of _Veritas: History of truth serums_ for me? It’s on the… fifth shelf near the middle.”

Abbie nodded lightly. “Sure thing,” she hummed and sashayed over to the shelf to look for the book. “Did you find anything while I was gone? There wasn’t nearly this many books out earlier.” She jumped slightly when he smacked the table and she turned to see him squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“Nothing conclusive,” he ground out. “Book. I need that book, Abbie. Please?”

She pursed her lips and turned back toward the shelf. Once she located the tome in question, she turned back to see Ichabod drumming the book in front of him restlessly. There was a tenseness radiating off his form. A smile slowly pulled across Abbie’s lips. Her pollen addled brain knew there was one thing that could help. Probably. Most likely.

Abbie lay the tome at the corner of the table, licked her lips then crawled up under the table.

If one were to ask one Ichabod Crane what would have made him feel better at that point he would have quite adamantly refused to tell them and say nothing was amiss. It would have been a means to continue testing the pollen and its effects.

Instead he could do nothing but groan as small hands palmed his erection through his pants, pulling a low whine from him as the material rubbed against his manhood. “Abbie,” he called warningly as he felt her deft fingers undo his breeches, but any further admonition died as skin met skin finally as she began to stroke his newly freed shaft. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Abbie’s lilting voice asked from beneath the desk. 

Ichabod grasped the edge of the table to keep from moving his hips. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ but then the Lieutenant’s warm, wet mouth enveloped the head of his dick and all reason flew out the window when she began to suck.

Abbie has Ichabod’s shaft in both hands, stroking what she can’t fit into her mouth as she moans enthusiastically. Why does his skin taste so good? She hums happily when his hands land on the back of her head gently as she takes more and more of him in with every bob of her head. Ichabod hits the back of her throat and Abbie swallows, breathing through her nose and sucking as hard as she can.

“Oh god, Abbie, please,” Ichabod begs, spreading his legs and slouching lower in the chair so he can move his hips a little. 

Abbie moans softly, gripping his hips. If her mouth wasn't full she would have been grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream. Ichabod made a strangled sound as she sucked deeply and slid her lips toward the tip, then released him with a soft wet noise.

She panted softly to catch her breath then licked her lips as she watched his cock twitch. Ichabod released a heavy breath and Abbie dove right back in with vengeance.

“Good Lord!” Ichabod cried out. His fingers curled into her hair and urged her mouth further down his shaft. 

Abbie pulled back, gagging and coughing softly. Ichabod instantly released her hair and flushed lightly.

“My… my apologies Lieu--”

“Shhh,” she purred, her hands gliding up his stomach and chest. She clamored onto his lap and kissed him deeply.

Ichabod felt the same heady feeling in her kiss as he did when encouraged by the pollen. Like nothing in the world mattered more than bringing Abbie as much pleasure as possible so she could see just how much he loved and adored her.

He grasped her gently grinding hips and pulled her flush to him, groaning when his cock became caught between their bodies. Abbie leaned back, elbows on the desk, and grinned impishly as her fingers ghosted over his length. Using one hand, she continued to tease his aching flesh.

“Damn,” she breathed, holding him against her belly. “No wonder it feels like you're trying to rip me in two.” She licked her lips hungrily. 

“Abbie,” Ichabod croaked. His eyes flittered to the numerous books on the table and he felt the compulsion to continue his research battle with the prospect of pleasing the petite goddess on his lap.

“Ichabod,” Abbie moaned softly. “Look… look at this. God… you're so big compared to me. Look, Ichabod. Look how far inside you go when you fuck me… Damn…” 

In hindsight, the research never had a chance. Because the moment she laid back, stroking his cock as it rested on her tiny body, he was powerless to resist her. She writhed and moaned, the back of her other hand pressing to her mouth to keep from saying the words on the edge of her tongue.

Abbie's hands moved to the the edge of the desk and she arched and cried out, “Oh God… Ichabod… please…” She didn't simply want him to fuck her that very moment. She craved it, she needed it.

She needed his big hands to grip her ass. She needed to have his big dick inside of her. She needed feel him hitting that spot deep inside before she went crazy. She needed to feel him filling her completely.

She needed him to pick her up and have her against the bookshelf. Preferably as soon as possible.

Ichabod practically tore her little skirt from her body and gave her that which she needed so desperately. His eyes widened in awe as he watched his length disappear inside of her, the heat wrapping around him.

She was right, he realized, as he slowly withdrew. He was quite sizable in comparison to her petite figure. She was practically stretched to her limits around him.

He slid his palm up her belly as he eased back inside of her. He could feel the muscles of her stomach flexing underneath his fingertips as her walls pulsed around his shaft.

Finally, Abbie wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his face to hers. She grinned darkly and nipped at his bottom lip. “I've always wanted you to fuck me up against the bookshelf. And all over this place.”

“Your wish is my command, Lieutenant,” Ichabod growled and kissed her deeply. She groaned into his mouth when he gripped her ass and hoisted himself from his seat to press her against the bookshelf, the spines of the books surprisingly springy as he began to fuck her hard with long, sure strokes. “Is this what you needed?” he groans.

“Yes! Don’t stop,” Abbie moans as she holds on for dear life. “Please don’t stop.”

Abbie clutched desperately for something to hold onto. Her hands falling to Ichabod’s shoulders when she couldn’t get a good enough grip on the bookshelf. “All I ever think about is you,” Ichabod whispered, pressing her hips back against the books with his own. “Always you. Even when… even in the beginning… I wanted you Abbie.”

She yanked his mouth against hers to shut him up. Ichabod dipped down gently then drove up into her deep and hard. Abbie threw her head back and wailed out his name as she came.

Ichabod rested his forehead against hers. “You must say it, Abbie,” he whispered. “You must admit the truth or it will drive you to insanity.”

“I… can't…” Abbie softly cried. “Not like this…”

“I've seen men driven to madness by this substance,” he admitted. “I, myself, was one of the several Thomas Jefferson tested it upon.”

He carried Abbie to his vacated seat and placed her in it before withdrawing with a soft groan.

Abbie waited until he had tucked himself away to ask. “What do you mean? What did TJ test on you?”

“The pollen,” he said quietly, taking her hand. “I recognized the effects after I confessed my lo--” he paused when Abbie looked away. “When I confessed my love for you.

“The pollen is not the cause of our amorous adventures this day,” he continued. “It's merely reacting to the secret which we keep hidden away. It's true purpose is that it makes the consumer tell the truth.”

Abbie did everything but look at Ichabod while she tried to find her skirt. “Suppose you’re right,” she said as she found the torn article of clothing flung somewhere off to the side.

“I am right,” Ichabod said.

Abbie shook her head and sobbed out a laugh. “Of course you are. You’re almost always right about this shit.” She lifted her skirt and groaned. “I can’t put this back on.”

“My apologies, Lieutenant,” Ichabod said, moving closer. He swallowed when he caught a glimpse of her posterior as she turned. If he didn’t know himself so well he would have chalked that up to lingering effects of the pollen. 

After a moment he remembered the duffel of clothing she had them stow in the archives, ages ago, just in case they could not make it back home for whatever reason. Raising a finger, he marched off toward the rear, and pointedly away from hers. “I shall return, with what proves to be a solution. Hopefully,” he muttered beneath his breath as he ducked between the shelves.

Abbie waited patiently for Ichabod to return, brightening when she sees a pair of pants in his hand. “No underwear, huh,” she asked, taking them and shoving her foot through the leg quickly. She hopped into them, not waiting for Ichabod to respond. “We should also grab dinner before we head home. I’m not really feeling like cooking right now.”

Ichabod stared at her as she purposefully grabbed the rest of her items and headed toward the door. He remained stupefied for a second longer before grabbing his things and following her. “Lieutenant-”

“Do you know what you want for dinner?” she asked over her shoulder.

He sighed. “Indian,” he said.

“Great. I could use a samosa.” 

~*~

Abbie thought she could get it under control. 

Ichabod’s pronounced cure for the stupid pollen made her angry _and_ being forced to face feelings that were perfectly happy never seeing the light of day didn’t help either. She leaned into the rage, feeling it simmer beneath her skin - unlike the lust that seemed to hover just above it. 

Rage, Abbie could deal with. You could negotiate it and temper it into a weapon promised to decimate all obstacles in her way. She and rage were very good friends by now. 

Except it wasn’t working.

Abbie was able to ignore the tingle between her legs as they pulled up to their favorite Indian spot, Clarity Gardens. Neither of them wished to be out so by silent consensus they placed their order to go. 

Though they didn’t speak Abbie was hyper aware of everything Ichabod did; the flex of his fingers as he found something interesting to hold his attention for a few mere seconds, the bob of his adam's apple drew her gaze every time he swallowed. Even his scent seemed to be amplified over the fifteen minutes it took to get their food. After swiping her card and scribbling her name on the receipt, Abbie turned on her heel and practically _fled_ back to the car, leaving Ichabod to get their bags of food.

Once inside and smelling of rich spices, Ichabod leveled a stare at the side of her head. “Have I done something?” he asked.

“No,” Abbie said quickly. No, he had not torn off her pants and sat her on his- “No,” she repeated again, stabbing the key into the ignition and turning it. 

“Your actions say otherwise.”

“Fuck you,” she said. 

“Ah,” he said delicately.

That seemed to infuriate Abbie even more. “That’s all you have to say? Let me guess, the pollen isn’t making you feel-”

“Abigail, even without the pollen it takes all my strength not to pull you across this seat so I may sheath myself inside of you,” Ichabod said, and suddenly she can hear the strain in his voice. “If they had left us alone for longer than two minutes I would have had you inside the restaurant, and I would not have cared a damn who saw.”

Abbie’s breathing through her mouth, practically panting at the image of Ichabod driving into her with long, deep strokes as she held onto the pick up counter. Her core throbbed so hard she cried out, and suddenly, _thankfully_ , Ichabod yanked her across the seat and onto his lap.

There is no finesse, and nothing to say - Abbie is trying to rock against the hardness she feels in Ichabod’s pants and remove her own at the same time but her fingers aren’t working right and she can feel her juices running down her thigh in anticipation. 

Thankfully Ichabod concentrated on getting her pants open - with deft fingers he reached in and found her clit, sliding against it and drenching his own hand. “My god,” he muttered as Abbie shimmied her hips to help him peel her pants down more. Once he had a better approach he shoved three fingers in to the hilt, rubbing his thumb against Abbie’s clit at the same time. 

Abbie fell back against the dashboard, screaming in relief as she rode his hand hard. Nothing mattered except for the sensations between her legs and getting off. “Oh _my god_ , yes,” she cried out, working her hips the best she could in the tight space. When Ichabod removed his hand Abbie felt like she could’ve killed him, but he dropped his seat back just enough to maneuver her higher on his lap.

Somehow he’d managed to free himself from his breeches, and Abbie licked her lips at the sight of his turgid length. It was almost purple near the head and looked obscenely hard as she clambered into place and sank down onto it.

“Abigail,” Ichabod rumbled, both hands filled with her glorious ass as he shoved her down onto his cock. His toes curled in his boots as he took control, bouncing Abbie’s body up and down his member as he roared, desperately searching for relief. 

“ _Yes_ ,” she screamed, only able to move as he wanted her to, when he wanted her. Every time she fell back onto his groin his cock hit every spot and nerve ending, arcing electricity up her spine and making it bow. Blindly Ichabod leaned forward, attempting to bite through the thin material of Abbie’s tank to get to her tantalizing breasts.

It felt almost as bad as the first time they’d felt this, back before they could leave the cave. Abbie couldn’t even think as Ichabod began to grind her down on his cock before moving her up and down. Everything he did just felt _so good_ , all she could do was hold on for dear life as she drenched the front of his breeches at every rise and fall.

_tap, tap, tap_

Abbie saw the light before she could see the person behind it; she knew it had to be one of her former colleagues from the sheriff's department. Before she could think of something, _anything_ , Ichabod flexed inside of her, making her cry out.

“Mills? Roll down the window, please!”

Fuck, it’s Miles Russell. He was fairly new when Abbie was on her way out and he hadn’t kept it secret he was interested in a quick tumble between the sheets, leering at her chest and ass as she walked by.

So Abbie can’t really explain why she pushed the button to lower the tinted windows, knowing how it looked - her bouncing on Ichabod’s cock, her nipples straining through the thin material of her tank as it did its damnedest to keep her tits from spilling out. 

She opened her mouth and wetted her lips in preparation to say something but all that came out was a low moan. Miles’ eyes widened and immediately dropped down to her bouncing chest and then further down where Ichabod rapidly disappeared inside of her. 

“What’s going… Holy shit, Mills,” he breathed, reaching for the radio on his shoulder. Just then the night air slid into the cabin of her car and blew right into Miles’ face. His hand dropped to his side as he leaned further into the car, drunk on pleasure.

“She is mine,” Ichabod said, without missing a stroke. 

“Yes… I… am…” Abbie moaned. She put her hand on Miles’ face and lightly pushed him away from the window. She let the window back up and continued riding Crane with enthusiasm. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out the words she didn't want to say in this way.

Crane squeezed her hips and thrust upward, making her cry out. “Say it…” he growled. “Say it Abbie… Good Lord… _say it_.”

Abbie gasped and fisted his shirt as she moved more frantically. She swallowed down the urge to give in to his demand. She pulled him up so she could give him a hard kiss then shoved him back down against the seat. “ _No_ ,” she snapped. Stars floated before her eyes when she dropped down hard on his lap. She choked on her breath and shuddered with release.

Ichabod held fast to her hips as he found his own release with a loud groan. They remained that way until Abbie gathered her breath and found the energy to move. With a small whimper she rose up off of him and fell over into the driver’s seat, still trembling. 

“Abigail,” Ichabod said quietly.

“Let’s just get home.” Abbie can’t look at him, can barely look at herself as she threw the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. 

~*~

Ichabod stared at the spread of food untouched, and glanced back at the ceiling for the third time in fifteen minutes. He had brought the food in, giving Abbie enough time to run upstairs and avoid him, to avoid talking about what she appears unable or _unwilling_ to say.

Ichabod’s fluttering fingers still. What if it was _unwilling_? 

What if she didn’t want to explore her feelings where they involved him. Perhaps he had missed his chance or even worse - the many missteps he’d taken since emerging from the ground just three years ago had finally soured her heart against him. 

Ichabod sighed heavily, pushing himself up from the set table and grabbing a short glass to fill halfway with brandy. He swallowed it down and promptly poured enough, deriving no courage nor bracing fire as it raced to his empty stomach. 

Would this be their life? Doomed to not make love to his darling Abigail as he so wants in his deepest heart-of-hearts, but to be reduced to required _fucking_ , debasing what esteem he holds for his Lieutenant?

Ichabod roused himself from his thoughts at the sound of a muffled thump from somewhere above. “Lieutenant?” he called, stoppering the brandy and moving to the base of the stairs. “...Abbie?”

He forced himself to wait an entire minute before he dashed up, taking the stairs two at a time. Ichabod came to Abbie’s closed door and raised his fist reluctantly to knock. “Lieutenant, is all well?”

“No!” 

Ichabod frowned and tried the knob; surprisingly it was unlocked, and he hesitantly pushed the door open, squinting into the darkness. “Lieutenant?”

“I thought I locked that damn door,” Abbie said, her voice still muffled. “I’m fine, Crane. Just… You don’t have to wait for me to eat… _fuck_ ,” she muttered, whimpering. 

Ichabod felt the energy crackle along the hairs on his forearm, and groaned at the sensation of his manhood hardening rapidly. “It’s taking less and less time between release,” he rasped as he palmed the front of his breeches. “Is that why you haven’t journeyed downstairs?”

Abbie groaned loudly and suddenly the room was illuminated by the small lamp beside her bed. She’s completely naked, flushed and swollen in the throes of desperate desire. “I broke my fucking vibrator,” she cried, flopping back onto the bed breathlessly. She lifted her head to see Ichabod quickly divesting himself of clothing. “ _Yes_ ,” she whines, letting her legs fall open.

Ichabod pulls her to the edge of the bed and is fully prepared to slide into her. He watches her writhe and arch and whimper his name as his hands glide up her thighs and over her stomach. And for a few blissful seconds he pauses then takes two steps back. 

“Ichabod?” Abbie calls weakly.

Unlike when he had been under the influence of the pollen, he felt like he could at the very least control his actions. Even if his body wanted her, he had the facilities to resist. This was not something his beloved Abbie really wanted. 

Perhaps she was only mildly attracted to him. But she didn't want _this_. She had said so herself, had she not? 

Ichabod took two more steps back. 

“ _Ichabod_ ,” Abbie whimpered, pushing onto her elbows. “What are you doing?” She shifted closer to the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs even more. “Please… Ichabod… You're the only one that can make it stop…”

He watched her hands glide down her body when she flopped back against the mattress. He took a tentative step toward her as she parted her folds, and sank two fingers inside of herself. Ichabod’s eyes roved up her body, watching her stomach muscles flex, taking in the pebbled tips of her breasts. 

“Ichabod… please…” she whispered longingly. She reached for him, taking his shaft in hand. “Make it stop… make me feel better…”

Ichabod’s eyes roamed over her sweat sheened face. He had seen this before, it was just before the person inflicted with the pollen reached a state of madness. But the ones that had been tested upon, himself included, had only been keeping simple information to themselves. Military secrets. Intel on the regulars. That they were spies...

Nothing like this. Nothing as fragile and beautiful as affections. He didn't want Abbie to be forced into confessing feelings she didn't want to reciprocate.

Ichabod squeezed his eyes shut and gently pulled her hands away from his person. “I cannot, in clear consciousness, do so,” he said.

Abbie whimpered softly, tears filling her eyes. “You wouldn't be doing anything I don't want, Ichabod,” she replied. “Because I have wanted you to fuck me… for so long…” she bit her bottom lip and her face twisted painfully. “That's all it is… it's just… ph… phys… oh god it hurts.” She looked up at him desperately. “Ichabod… please… make it stop. Please.”

Ichabod stared at her flushed face for a moment. “Only you alone can truly make it stop, Abbie.”

Her phone chirped on her nightstand. Abbie picked it up and pushed the green phone icon to answer, then clicked the speaker. “What is it, Jenny?”

“We've found the inscription,” Jenny said. “ _Veritas vos liberabit_.”

“Fuck,” Abbie swore. “The truth sets you free.”

“Are you okay?” Jenny asked.

“No,” Abbie groaned. “I want Crane to fuck me but he won't. Because he figured the truth thing out hours ago when he confessed his feelings.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. I did not mean to say that… I am so sorry, Jenny…”

The line was quiet for a long moment. “Oh… kay…” Jenny said slowly. “Well… um… so… _Veritas vos liberabit_ , Abbie. I… have to go.”

“Okay,” Abbie said tensely. “Love you, bye.”

Abbie hit the red button and tossed the phone onto her nightstand. Her heart leapt into her throat when Ichabod yanked on his breeches and buttoned them. “Ichabod! Where are you going? _I need you_!” she shrieked as he walked out her bedroom door.

For a moment the desperation subsided. She slipped off the bed and dashed after him. “Ichabod!”

He paused on the steps and turned toward her. Abbie sucked in a breath, tears stinging her eyes as she walked closer. “I didn't want it to be like this,” she said quietly.

“And that is why I simply must find some other way to free you of the pollen, Lieutenant,” Ichabod stated. “I've seen what happens when your determination to withhold the secret becomes too great. Which is why I must find another way. You should not have to confess to feelings you have no desire for in order to save your own life. But time is short.”

She stepped down a step when his gaze flittered over her body and she saw his breath hitch as hurt filled his eyes. Abbie reached out and touched his shoulder. Electricity seemed to fizzle between them. 

Did… did he really think she loved him but didn't _want to_? Tears burned her eyes for an entirely different reason now. “That’s not…” Abbie trailed off, unable to talk around the emotion in her throat. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s not that I don’t have feelings for you,” she said clearly.

Ichabod stared up at her, the slightest glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. “What are you saying,” he said lowly.

Abbie bit her bottom lip and doubled over in pain, falling to her knees. “I tried so hard,” she said, the words forcing themselves between her lips. “I tried so hard to keep you away. I threw any and every woman at you who looked at you twice and I still-” She slammed her fist down on the landing, choking back a sob as Ichabod rushed to her, cradling her gently as they tumbled to the floor. 

As soon as Ichabod’s arms encircled her, Abbie felt like she could breathe. Tears filled her eyes but the pain was gone, and she could see him as clearly as day. This man, this impossible, beautiful, _infuriating_ man was willing to do whatever it took to learn how she felt about him on her own terms. 

She sucked in a shuddering breath, unable to look away. “I wish this was ours,” she said. “I wish this could have been on our own terms.”

Ichabod nodded, swallowing thickly. “If I am to remain truthful, Lieutenant, I do not know when I would have had the courage to tell you how I felt,” he admitted. “I have longed for you for what feels like the entirety of my life, even before I knew you and being faced with the other half of your soul gives you courage and utter fear in equal measure.”

“I was going to tell you,” Abbie said, sniffling and trying not to sob. “I was going to beat you home one day and instead of you making dinner _you_ would come home and find it already made and I was going to wear a dress…” They both laughed and Ichabod leaned down to kiss both of Abbie’s cheeks. 

“What next?” he asked, nuzzling his cheek against hers.

“A walk in the park,” she said breathlessly, subconsciously reacting to Ichabod’s roaming hands. “I would say things that would set you off on one of your rants and listen while we took a slow trip around the pond. Then, when I gathered myself I was going to tell you that…”

Ichabod lifted his face to peer down at Abbie. “I was going to tell you that over these years I had fallen in love with you,” she said, crying anew. “And that I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it and no matter what I’ve lost… I don’t think it compares to what I’ve found since knowing you.”

“My dearest Abigail,” Ichabod said, thickly. “You make me the happiest man on earth or in heaven by telling me this. I am both honored and humbled by your gentle affections-”

“These are not gentle affections,” Abbie said firmly. 

Ichabod paused and searched her eyes, nodding seriously. “I believe the phrase is, _you’re it for me_ ,” he said.

Abbie closed her eyes and laughed, and suddenly the odd and strained tightening in her body loosened completely and she felt boneless in his arms. “Oh my god,” she said, almost drunk on the absence of the sensation. “Is this how you felt the first time?”

Ichabod looked slightly confused before he chuckled and nodded. “Yes,” he said. He glanced down at Abbie’s body and when he looked up there was just the normal amount of heat to be found. “Lieutenant, you are unclothed and on this cold, hard floor. Much too uncouth for your delicate skin.”

Abbie had completely forgotten she was naked, honestly, baring her soul had her feeling more vulnerable than a lack of clothing. “Maybe if someone let me up I could go put some clothes on,” she joked, yelping when Ichabod gracefully rolled to his feet with her tucked in his arms. “How did you do that?”

“Now, if I reveal all my tricks this early in our courtship you’ll lose interest,” he joked, walking Abbie into her room with quick strides and depositing her on the bed gently.

“Courtship,” Abbie hummed, reaching out to grab Ichabod’s forearm before he moved away too far. “That sounds like something I could get behind,” she murmured as she tugged him onto the bed.

Ichabod looked at her for a moment before disrobing and climbing into bed with her. “You know, in my day we would have to be wed before doing this.”

“Did you forget all of today?” Abbie barked a laugh. “I think we’re beyond that.”

“While I will never forget it, Lieutenant, I don’t consider that _us_ ,” Ichabod said quietly. “When I make your body sing and you scream my name, henceforth, it will be due to my skill alone,” he promised, letting his fingers trail down her shoulder and arm.

Abbie shivered and the arousal she felt wasn’t bigger than her body or her compulsions. It was just her, a person who wanted another person. Her mouth didn’t taste like cosmos and nothing glowed otherworldly. The lamp beside her bed washed out half of Ichabod’s prone form, giving him an pasty orange look as he leaned over her. She knew her hair was in such a disarray that it had to look like she’d rented it for a frat party.

Everything was perfect.

They moved together, in a surprisingly tentative kiss considering what they had done and said to each other earlier that day. Ichabod’s large hands cradled her face gently as the kiss deepened and it felt as new and ephemeral as the first time. When they pulled apart Abbie was smiling, as was Ichabod. 

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, just shy of giggling herself. 

“That I could stop if I wanted, but my god, why would I want to?” he said.

Abbie ducked her head, resting her forehead against the light scruff of his chest. “I feel exactly the same,” she said. 

“No lingering effects of the pollen?” Ichabod prodded. “No desire to have me penetrate you immediately?”

“Well,” Abbie drawled as she hooked her leg over his hip to draw him closer. “I wouldn’t say _that_ ,” she said. 

“Oh good,” Ichabod rumbled before he filled his hands with Abbie’s breasts, thumbing the peaks until they pebbled beneath his touch, making her arch into his grasp. With every touch he stoked the fires of desire in the pit of her belly.

She hummed and moaned as his lips lit a path down her body, following his hands. Abbie yelped as his mouth made it to between her legs and she squeezed his head between her thighs. “Oh… shit,” she gasped. “You really _do_ like that. Oh… Oh…” He lifted his head just enough that she could see a wicked smirk appear on his lips.

“I believe the pollen had no effect on the various _things_ I wished to do to you, just made me act upon them,” he purred then lowered his head back between her thighs.

Abbie’s hips arched away from the bed as his tongue swirled around her clit and he penetrated her with slow, shallow strokes of his fingers. “Oh yes,” he heard him murmur softly. “Divine….”

Abbie wanted to say something, _anything_ , but all she could get out were half-screamed versions of Ichabod’s name until she came - and it wasn’t the all body-encompassing climax she’d had while under the pollen, but it truly felt like release as it settled a pleasant buzz deep in her muscles. 

“That was…” Ichabod sigh indulgently against her still trembling thigh. “I could watch you do that again and again for the rest of time.”

Abbie had to laugh. “When I’m better able to think I’ll have a comeback worthy,” she vowed. “Until then, _Captain_...”

Ichabod felt his heart skip a beat as he stared up the plane of Abbie’s body, her soft and still slightly wicked smile shining down on him like a rare sunshine. He slid up to capture her lips softly, falling within the frame of her hips as if he lived there. Gently, he slid home with one stroke, swallowing Abbie’s gasp in their kiss. 

He forced himself not to move until he had kissed away some of the tension in Abbie’s body, until she began to scratch down his back with her nails and make small noises. Bracing himself on his hands and knees, Ichabod moved slow and deep, keeping his stroke measured and unhurried. 

Watching Abbie break apart without the unwelcome influence of the pollen was indeed something else entirely - he felt he hadn’t been privy to the real sights and sounds of his beloved in the throes of passion until now, until _he_ pulled them from her divine form.

Ichabod lifted her leg higher against his hip, changing his angle and groaning loudly at the sensation of Abbie’s walls fluttering around him. “Abbie, my love,” he grunted, speeding up just slightly as she pressed her chest against his.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, reaching down to grab handfuls of his ass as he moved faster and harder. “Like that - _oh god_ ,” she groaned, straining against him.

Ichabod watched, enraptured as he felt her tighten around him, coming with a soft, high sound, burying her face against the side of his neck as she cried out. He was helpless to do anything but come after another few strokes, unable to deny his own release enveloped in Abbie’s glorious body.

His arms trembled and he fell to the side to avoid crushing her. Abbie clung to him anyway, wrapping her legs around his hips even as he withdrew from her body. He could feel her breathing heavily and so was he; this time he reveled in the pleasureable burn of his muscles. This release was honestly earned and felt like so much more. 

The day seemed to catch up to them both because Abbie could barely press a kiss to the side of his mouth and mumble _sleep_ before they both succumbed. 

~*~

Abbie opened her eyes and was briefly confused until her brain caught up with the rest of everything else. When she turned over, Ichabod was sitting on the bed beside her, most of the Indian food consumed as he watched Turn, muttering to himself in between bites. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she watched him roll his eyes and gesture silently toward the television, careful not to wake her up.

“What are you ranting about?” she asks, her voice oddly raspy. She cleared her throat and sat up, grinning as Ichabod’s gaze immediately dropped to her bared chest. 

“My apologies for waking you,” he murmured, leaning over and waiting expectantly for a kiss. 

“You didn’t,” she said, obliging him so she can snatch the rest of the samosa from his hand. “Oh, that’s good,” Abbie said after she stuffed it into her mouth. 

“I am watching a show that is supposedly set during the Revolutionary War about a group of spies for General Washington and they have just crossed the line with the fallacies and lies they have put forth in the name of entertainment!” he said, lifting his finger. 

“Did you save me any gobi manchurian,” Abbie asked, cutting him off before he could ramp up again. 

Ichabod deflated. “Was that the delightful cauliflower dish?”

Abbie narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”

“Then I did not. The portion given was remarkably small.” 

Abbie nodded. “It was a family portion, Crane.”

“A family of one,” Ichabod countered. “Surely no more than that.”

“You better be glad I love you,” she groused, digging around in the bag closest to her. “Eating my favorite food.” She looked up to find him staring at her slightly strange. “What? You did eat it, right?”

Ichabod shook his head. “It’s not that,” he murmured. “I was just fully prepared for you to… I mean, not that I doubted you at your word, Lieutenant-”

“You thought I was going to pretend nothing happened? That I didn’t say what I said, or that I don’t feel what I feel?” Abbie asked.

“I would not blame you,” he said. “It would hurt, be assured the wound would be deep - but even hearing you say those words once would have satisfied me for the rest of my life.”

“Well tough,” Abbie said. “Because you’re going to hear them a lot more from now on.”

Ichabod reached for her hand and moved closer. “That circumstance is infinitely more agreeable.”

Abbie beamed up at him and snuggled into his side as a commercial came on.

“ _Seek immediate medical help if you experience an erection lasting more than 4 hours_.”

Ichabod cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Surely that doesn’t count for supernatural occurrences.” 

Abbie begins to giggle and pats his stomach. “Well… we could always take you to the doctor to make sure.”

“Perhaps we should simply make observances for the next few days,” Ichabod said stiffly. “I imagine I would be returning to the one specialist that gets entirely too _handsy_.”

Abbie cocked a brow. “Oh, so you don't like having someone…” and slid her hand underneath the blanket. Empty containers hit the floor as Ichabod shuddered and groaned. “...that gets handsy?”

“Perhaps it depends upon who is getting handsy,” Ichabod said, barely above a whisper. “And in what manner…”

Abbie squealed with delight when she suddenly found herself on her back with Ichabod nibbling down her neck. She rolled and pinned him on the bed, straddling his stomach.

She scratched his chest playfully. “Well… I say we research thoroughly on our side first.”

“I do love research…” Ichabod commented with interest. 

After much research they determined everything was perfectly normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pollen may be over and done but there is more to come for the Smut Anthology! Stay tuned.


End file.
